Ultraviolet
by Crack.Alchemist
Summary: No, it's not political intrigue or alchemical chaos that seeks to topple Roy Mustang from the catbird seat. As if blazing a trail to the top wasn't hard enough, now he must blaze a trail to liberate himself, and others like him, from the preconceptions of the age-old hierarchal system, handed down through the Amestrian bloodlines for generations.
1. Chapter 1

The story is completely AU. Based on FMA: Brotherhood, events after the Promised Day. As usual, it is my own little private timeline; my own private little world. Yeah, and, just to add, my own little crackpot theories. This is also full of free-form Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, with some similarities to a "traditional" A/B/O universe.

We all know I don't own FMA or FMAB. This is fanfiction for entertainment purposes only – distribution for profit is not allowed. Comments and reviews are always welcome!

]o[ ]o[ ]o[

 **Ultraviolet**

 **Chapter One**

 **Rating: T**

Edward Elric was a late bloomer. He knew this, his brother knew this, and by now everyone knew it. Fifteen he was when puberty final hit, and it had been forced at that on that cold assed day in Baschool. It was one of the most memorable days in his life. He'd had that damned iron post yanked from his body and half-healed himself at the expense of about two years of his life. The down side was that he'd probably die earlier than he'd been fated to; the up side was that he'd grown a good three inches in height. Short was a description he'd happily left on the bloody ground in a burned out, broken down warehouse.

 _Better late than never,_ he'd thought at the time. Thought it when he reached his full height at eighteen, when he set out on his exploratory travels in the west. Thought it when he scored his first lover (beside his hand) at nineteen and a half, in a beautifully extravagant bedroom four doors away from the Tsar of Drachma.

It seemed like every one of his rites of passage occurred during some landmark moment in his life. So when he dropped his battered, brown suitcase on the platform and slumped in his chair, he wondered what event was around the corner this time.

Because his skin was itchy and something crackled under the surface and it had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with alchemy.

He was headed to Central after a year and a half of being snowed in at Ekaterinburg, enjoying the hospitality of the Tsar Nickolas and his Alexiandra. It was an unplanned, but very happy stop at the start. Eventually, as he well knew, all good things came to an end, and he'd packed his considerable collection of books and Drachman souvenirs and booked the train back to Central Amestris. He'd written a letter to precede him, sending a friendly warning directly to the Office of the Prime Minister, Vice-President, Second in Command or whatever General Bastard was calling himself these days. He had the answer in his coat pocket, and could even hear Hawkeye's kind voice when he read that both she and the General were looking forward to seeing him and his brother.

The trip had very carefully coordinated after he'd received a letter from his brother, telling him that Alphonse was also returning to Central from his time in Xing, and was preparing to go in for reassessment for his State Alchemist certification. He would meet his brother at the Central Station. It had been far too long since he'd seen Alphonse though his brother's descriptive letters made it seem as if he were walking through the halls of the Forbidden Palace right along with him.

It had taken him a long time to rid himself of the oppressive loneliness he felt after Alphonse had left for the East. That isolation had made him do some rather stupid things before he left for his own trip up north. A couple of drunken binges, some minor fisticuffs, and a half-assed proposal of marriage were top on that list of _things Edward should not have done_. But, after all was sorted, and Granny had given him an earful of what-for, he'd calmed himself down enough to consider his own plans for the future. He'd quit drinking bad beer, made peace with his former enemies in Risembool, and thanked the gods he didn't believe in that Winry had presented as alpha and had mated with the Pitt Renback before he had to make good on his promise to give her half of his life.

Now, Edward was practically vibrating with excitement at the idea of seeing his brother in the flesh again. _In the flesh._ No matter that it had been almost four years that phrase still sent a tremor of absolute happiness through Edward.

Upon later reflection, he should have known better. He should have realized that, per the usual, his life was not going to click along the way a normal life was supposed to. He should have realized that that late blooming part wasn't done with him yet, and was going to bite him on the ass someday.

Ed looked down the platform, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the first two buttons on his shirt. He'd forgotten how hot summer in Amestris was. The heat, virtually unheard of in Drachma, slipped under his skin, exploded from his pores in fine drops of sweat. Maybe that's what was making his skin feel too tight for his body. As he saw the train finally coming up the track, he was only looking forward to meeting with Al, enjoying the largest dinner he'd eaten to date and crashing head first into a soft, fluffy bed in the Central Officer's Dorms.

] o [

Alphonse was… beautiful. There was no other descriptive word that could describe the younger Elric. Eighteen and a half, tall, lithe and confident, he was a head and a half taller than his older brother, and Edward could do very little at first but stare at him.

Al had taken to Xing culture as if he'd been born there. His hair – as white-golden blond as Ed's own – was pulled back in a jeweled clasp, and braided into a long Xingese queue down his back. The only nod to his Amestrian upbringing that was left was the dark brown waistcoat and pants, the white shirt buttoned with tiny pearl buttons, and pristine white gloves. And his smile was as bright and universal as the sun.

"Brother!" he called, racing down the platform to engulf Ed in a bear hug of extraordinary proportions. As Ed attempted to draw some air into his lungs, he looked over Al's shoulder at the person standing a few feet away, next to his brother's luggage.

Ed took the man in from head to foot. He was about a fraction shorter than Ed; that was something Ed liked right away. He held himself with a regal bearing that was not hard to miss, but his eyes were soft and his smile was almost shy. He was dressed smartly; long black hair in a queue, gray waistcoat and trousers, white shirt with onyx buttons. His mark stood out as a delicate bruise on the pale skin of his neck, as small and subtle as only Alphonse could bestow.

Ed leaned back and arched an eyebrow at Al, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Something you forget to tell me, Alphonse?" he asked, cracking a grin at his brother's blush.

Alphonse was not your typical alpha, not in the true sense of the word. Unlike Winry, who was an alpha in all of her blazing, wrench-wielding glory, Al's pull was more subtle, like the undercurrent of a deep river. He usually let his presence do the talking for him, and saved his Voice for when it was absolutely necessary. So Ed knew the blush was nothing about embarrassment, and all about a deep and comfortable pride.

"Ah, yeah, about that, Ed," Al rubbed the back of his neck, then turned and gestured for the man to come. "This is Tseng, Brother," Alphonse said, "Tseng Yao."

Ed paused in offering his hand. "Yao?"

Al nodded. "Twentieth son of the Emperor." He draped a possessive arm over Tseng's shoulder. "One of Ling's younger brothers."

Ed blinked a few times while this processed, then continued on with his greeting. "Pleased – _real_ pleased to meet you."

Tseng took his hand with a gracefulness that belied a firm grip. "The pleasure is mine." His voice was a softer, more melodic version of Ling's. "I have heard so much about you that I feel I already know you."

"I hope not all you heard was bad," Ed murmured, waiting with bubbling excitement for the formal words to come from his brother. He knew what he was seeing, and he was overjoyed, but he just had to hear it from his Al's mouth.

Alphonse was delighted to give it to him. Claiming his mate was all part of the package. "Ling was heart-broken when we mated," and there it was in Al's understated style. "He groused and complained so much about finding another finance minister that I had to feed him a twelve course dinner to make amends."

"He _would_ eat his way out of his despair," Ed snorted.

Al craned his neck, looking at his brother. "Is… anyone with you?"

Ed knew what Alphonse was asking. He shrugged, then picked up his suitcase. "No. Well, I should say not yet. I've decided that either I'm a miserable beta or I'll be fifty before I present." It really didn't bother him either way. He'd had plenty of excitement in his life without the upheaval of an alpha's first rut. He was looking forward to some time to rest and just enjoy himself before he had to go through that turmoil.

But, before he could get to the rest and relaxation, he'd made a pledge to pay his respects to Hawkeye and Mustang first. He didn't really see it as an obligation, though. In the end, they were the reason he was even at peace in the first place.

"C mon, guys. Let's get to the dorms so I can pass out. I'm exhausted."


	2. Chapter 2

]o[ ]o[ ]o[

 **Ultraviolet**

 **Chapter Two**

 **Rating: T +**

One of the little things the General loved about being the second-in-command of the Amestrian Army (and the country as a whole) was the spacious, ornate and private office that came with the rank. While he still enjoyed spending some time in the company of his team, there were times when he _needed_ to prop his feet on his dark wooden desk, aim pencils at the ceiling with impunity and tell his secretary to beat feet so he could lock the door and commiserate in privacy. In addition, he didn't have to worry about Riza wanting to shoot his nuts off for being a lazy pig.

Right then, he needed all of the privacy his office could provide. However, internal commiseration was the furthest thing from his mind.

He reached into his top left drawer - after removing the alchemical lock - and pulled out two tiny paper bundles. He unfolded the sides, top, and upended both into a glass of water. _Take with water only,_ the instructions said. He could have filled the glass with twenty-year-old whiskey and have been very happy, but with this medication, he knew better. He tossed it back and shuddered from the sour taste. Then the paper scraps went into the ashtray and made them into cinders with a snap of his fingers.

He had cut it close this time, almost been caught flat-footed and on-fire himself. The fact that he needed _two_ doses of the suppressant troubled him. As the medication rushed through his system, he felt his fever subside and the beginnings of a dull ache that had started to worry at him diminish. That meant that he would have to schedule a visit with Knox to up his dose or change to a new formulation. He could not afford to slip even once. Not now, not when he was so close.

He snorted to himself and poured himself another glass of water, thinking about the distinction the public held between an omega's heat and an alpha's rut. A rut showed strength, prowess, and an ability to control and dominate. A rut was applauded and welcomed. An omega's heat, however? The upheaval caused by that would become that something no amount of damage control could lessen. Omegas usually found themselves stuck in rank until they dried up of old age or died in harness.

An omega could never be a leader of Amestris, not according to widely held opinion. A leader could not be distracted by the unstable, debilitating heats that heralded an omega's fertility. Not when the omega in question had the temerity to remain unattached and uncontrolled.

Widely held opinion was utter bullshit as far as he was concerned and very soon he would prove it.

From the day he had decided to join the military, the plan was, and had always been, to stay under the radar until he reached high office. The plan was to prove himself _worthy_ to be the leader of Amestris, by whatever title he chose, despite his secondary gender. To wipe out the corruption and pain of serving under a tyrant that cared absolutely nothing for the people of his country. Even though it had been ingrained in him since his time at Ishbal, it was Ling Yao who put it into words for him. _A king exists for his people. Without people, rulers would not exist._ It was this simple thing that those monsters had failed to grasp. Power for power's sake; that was what Father had wanted.

He was glad the creature - and his pieces and parts - were gone.

Now it was the turn of the peacemakers. Roy knew that the path of the military was not the way Amestris needed to go to heal itself. The people had had their fill of being told what to do and how to live. It was time for them to have a voice. Everyone had to have a hand in the recovery, in one way or the other, and he would guide the country in that direction. Only when that was accomplished would he allow someone to claim him as a mate and show everyone that the world wouldn't crack open just because Amestris was being cared for by an omega.

 _Allow_. He snorted bitterly to himself. This was the only thing he couldn't talk himself out of. No matter what he decided to tell himself, when the time came, choice would be a fleeting thing. The only thing he could hope would be that when he _allowed_ himself to come into heat, that his suitable mate would be close.

In any case, he would prove them wrong in the same way he did everything else – with his wit and his flair for the dramatic.

His temperature had lowered to just about normal by the time he'd finish grumbling to himself about the disparities of society. Just as he aimed yet another pencil at the ceiling tile above his desk, there was a light tap on his door. Only one person was allowed to disturb him when that door was locked. "Hold on, Colonel." He checked in the little hand mirror he pulled from the locked drawer, just to make sure the flush was gone from his face. He opened the door, allowing his adjutant, his right hand, his sister-in-spirit into his inner sanctum.

"Are you alright?" Riza asked. She stopped just inside the doorway and scented the air. Her small nose wrinkled slightly and he gave him a rueful smile. "Cutting it close, General," she said a touch of concern in her voice.

"I know," Roy said, running his hand through his hair. At least he wasn't shaking anymore. "I don't know where it came from this time."

"Well, it's not something to take lightly. Would you like me to have Molly schedule an appointment with Doctor Knox?"

"Please."

"Of course." She wrote the note in her ever-present notebook, and then smiled. "Now, I have some good news."

Roy offered her a seat on the couch to the right of his desk. "I could use a bit of good news." He jerked his head toward the files on his desk. "If I see one more death certificate connected to the Promised Day, I'm going to write one for myself and jump out of the window."

Not every citizen in Amestris had survived unscathed from that awful day. At first, it seemed that the grand transmutation had been successfully reversed or at least halted in its destructive tracks. Then, about six months in, people began dying. Not just dying, though, but dropping into seizures before falling insensate and passing away. Knox had diagnosed a wasting sickness, but the concentration of deaths in the population was too much of a coincidence to be chance. While the new Investigations Division was buzzing with clues, he was stuck signing of death certificates to deliver to them as evidence.

"Well, this should bring a smile to your face if just for a moment." Riza clasped her hands in her lap and smiled. "The Elric brothers have arrived in Central and they'll be visiting tomorrow."

Roy leaned forward, an honest smile on his face. " _Finally._ I was wondering if those two were going to wander the land forever."

"I think they needed to get the wanderlust out of their systems before settling down," Riza said. "I think the longer they stayed in place the longer they relived… that day."

"Edward, especially," he sighed. "The poor guy didn't know what to do with himself after he'd accomplished his goal." He'd heard about Edward's time in Risembool. He knew it was the fact that the powerfully focused mind housed within that young man's head had nothing to focus on. Personally, Roy had been glad that Edward wandered off, away from the scene, before that mind splintered for lack of anything else to do.

"Well, it looks like Breda won the betting pool," Riza was saying. "Edward didn't wed and mate with Winry."

Roy smirked. "Breda's not stupid." He knew Breda would win that bet; there was more to Heymans than met the eye. While everyone merely reacted to the Elric brothers, Breda observed and absorbed. Under that gruff, slightly goofy, and lackadaisical nature was a mind like a steel trap. It had been Roy's great pleasure to sign off the promotion and transfer that made the Lieutenant Colonel the head of the Investigations Division.

"I'll make sure that everyone necessary knows to clear them immediately."

"Good. Tell Molly to take the rest of the day off after she schedules my appointment with Knox." He leaned back and threw an arm over his eyes. "Don't want to be disturbed until the Elrics arrive."

"Of course, sir." She went to his desk, opened the right-hand drawer, and pulled out a pair of white gloves. "Shall I take these for the moment?"

"Please. Just in case the suppressants don't take all the way, I'd hate to have them around during a fit of pique."

Riza chuckled. "I love your creative terms. Fit of pique indeed."

"What would you call it, Colonel?"

"Hmm. I'd call it a histrionic fit, sir."

As the door closed with a quiet click, Roy grimaced. The other thing he was thankful for was that this huge, luxurious, private office allowed him to indulge in his so-called _histrionics_ in peace.


	3. Chapter 3

]o[ ]o[ ]o[

 **Ultraviolet**

 **Chapter Three**

 **Rating: T +**

Butter.

That was the first thing that Ed sensed when he woke up. The sweet, buttery scent of butter wafted through the air and greeted him with a sunshiny freshness.

Yawning and scratching his butt, he got out of bed and wandered toward the connecting door. The smell was pouring from under the door between the suites. He knocked softly.

Alphonse answered the door, dressed only in his trousers. He grinned. "I guess you're hungry?"

"What do you think?" Ed said, scooping a handful of sleep tangled hair from his face. "What's the deal with the buttery smell?"

Alphonse grinned more. "Pancakes. Heaps of butter and syrup. Come on in."

Ed looked down at himself. He was dressed similar to his brother, except his pants were soft pajama bottoms. "Maybe I should put on more clothes."

"Tch. We're family, Ed. And your stomach is gonna jump out and head over here without you if you don't move it."

Ed's stomach chose that moment to agree, gurgling loud enough to draw a chuckle from Tseng, who was sitting at the kitchenette table. "Sounds like you," he called. Ed stepped through the door and watched him pour a healthy serving of syrup over his pancakes. Ed sucked up his drool and found his chair without any further arguments.

"I'm looking forward to seeing the General and Hawkeye," Alphonse said through a mouthful.

Ed waved his fork around. "Wonder if he as obnoxious as he used to be."

"Ed, he was only obnoxious with you and that was because you were obnoxious with him."

"So? He was the adult. He should have known better than to mess with a kid."

Al snorted and shook his head. "See, Tseng? I told you it was going to be an event to remember. General Roy Mustang and Colonel Edward Elric, Retired, face to face for the first time in years." He grinned. "You sure you don't want to come and watch the fireworks?"

Tseng shook his head. "Maybe next time," he answered. "Today is a special day for the two of you. Enjoy it, and introduce me next time."

Ed looked between Al and Tseng. "I would have never thought I would see the day that I would find a second Alphonse." He jerked his thumb in Tseng's direction. "He's just like you."

Al shook his head. "Not a bit." A soft look, the kind of look Ed always dreamed to see on his brother's face glittered in Al's eyes. "He's more patient."

"More patient that _you_? What kind of alchahestry is that?"

Al shook his head slowly, still locked in that gaze with his mate. "Persistence."

He finished the three S's (shitting, showering and shaving) in record time in Ed's room, and he crossed back over to see Alphonse also scrubbing his hair dry. "Do you mind, Ed?" Al said, pointing at the mess on his head.

Ed looked over a Tseng questioningly. Surely, this was something Al's omega would do. He simply smiled and continued cleaning the kitchenette. Ed shrugged and waved at his brother to sit on the floor in front of the couch.

Edward thoroughly enjoyed braiding his brother's hair. Before, when things were more complicated, Al would always take care that Edward's hair never tangled in the shoulder joints of his automail; now it was his turn to do the same.

During his recovery from his time in extreme contemplation (as Al sardonically called it), Alphonse had suffered one more debilitating event before fate decided to leave him be. As if in some bitter repayment for his bargain to get Edward's arm back, his left arm had been broken in a small accident, had gotten an infection, and was amputated. As much as it tore Edward apart to see his younger brother suffering the same way he'd done, Al met the challenge headlong and with a rueful, philosophical smile. "To obtain," was all he said after he'd finally acclimatized to the beautifully flexible automail fitted just below his left shoulder. He'd allowed Ed to wallow in his guilt for a month before whipping his ass around the back yard and teasing him about the fact that his automail was a hundred times better than Ed's had ever been. "Told ya Winry liked me better," Al has teased him.

Edward had never told his brother how therapeutic the act of brushing and braiding was, how calming it could be after those long days of dirt and violence and disappointment. Now, as he finished off the long, waist length queue with a black tie, he could tell that Alphonse understood.

He looked up as Tseng walked into the bathroom to start his morning routine. "Tseng Yao, huh?" He asked as he tied off the end of Al's ponytail.

Al nodded. "Caught me by surprise too. I never expected…" he blushed. "I thought it would take a while before I met someone I could… you know."

"Is he good to you?" No matter what, he wouldn't stand for Al attached to anyone who mistreated him.

"What do you think? Of course! Took him a while to get through this thick head of mine, but he was up to the task."

Ed moved to the floor to sit next to his brother and carefully watched the happiness sparkle in the younger man's eyes. It looked like Alphonse's life was finally complete. A small part - the most miniscule - felt a little twinge that he hadn't had that experience yet, and then he tossed that wayward thought over at the pile of _things to worry about another time._ Like everything else, full circle would come when it was good and ready.

Edward was in no rush to do anything anymore than enjoy his life. After the Promised Day, after the struggles leading to it, his goals had become simpler. Yes, he still obsessed over theories when they popped up in his head, that would never go away, but his pathological fixations had eased off. All he wanted was to be able to complete the three S's without catastrophic interruptions.

He wondered if that was why he was feeling at a loss. There was nothing he had to be doing _right then._

He'd never thought of what would happen _after_ he brought Al home. It had taken two full years of spinning his wheels to get off his ass and make a move forward. He would never tell anyone, but the only reason he _finally_ left Risembool was the fact that everyone was expecting he and Winry to begin some kind of life together. He knew that was barking up the wrong staircase. Every time he thought about it, he'd felt a sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach that wouldn't erase. He'd though that stepping forward with his half-baked proposition would have settled matters in his head.

When she had accepted, in her crazy way, and he'd taken her into his arms to say goodbye, he still felt incomplete. It was then that he knew the depth of their relationship was cast in stone. There would be no _Ed and Winry_. When he returned and learned about Winry and Pitt, his relief was cathartic. That loose end was tied off and he was free. But free to do what, exactly?

"Do you worry about it, Brother?" Al asked, piercing through his thoughts the way he always did. Straight to the point. "Not presenting yet, I mean."

Ed sighed and rested his arms on his knees. "Sometimes," he said. "Sometimes I can't be bothered, but there are days when I wonder if I'm just a boring assed beta. That would serve me right, now wouldn't it?"

"What about when you were with Mikhail?" Al asked cautiously, buttoning the shirt he'd brought with him and looking around for his uniform jacket. "Did you wonder then?"

A chill tripped down Edward's spine at the thought of his first lover. A spirit running over his own grave, the old wives called it. "Of course. I thought that as soon as I met him, I would present and the world would start turning on the right axis." He shrugged, flinching away from the memory. "It didn't happen. I think I'm kinda grateful."

His fingers froze on the buttons of his shirt as Al put his arm around his brother's shoulder. "I get that. You don't need pain like that anymore." He was silent a moment and Ed could feel the question coming. "Was it… fast?"

Ed thought for a while, tucking in his shirt, pulling on the dark brown waistcoat, and evaluating himself the mirror hung on the back of the bathroom door. He hadn't told anyone about the details of Mikhail's death, not even Alphonse. At the time, it was easier to say that the love of his life was gone and leave it at that. Reliving that day over and over for any and everyone who asked was just too much for him.

Now, he could safely remove himself from the narrative. _Almost_. "Carriage ride," he began, wincing at the vision that appeared behind his eyes. Flopping on the edge of his bed, he looked down at Alphonse. His brother sat on the floor with crossed legs without a single thought about the incongruity of the position. It was so familiar, Ed wanted to smile, but couldn't with the memory moving sluggish through his brain. "Icy path through the park at night. One minute we were laughing, the next he was flying over the horses and onto the pavement." He cleared his throat and pushed the vision of himself, frozen in the seat of the carriage, staring stupidly, then crouched over Mikhail, screaming - no _screeching_ \- for help from anyone who could hear. He used the clinical terms to remove himself from the feelings. "Traumatic brain injury, diastatic and basilar fractured skull, brain herniation, cervical fracture. Atlanto-occipital dislocation." It was easier that way. "I think that was all the doctors told me."

The silence from Al was full of shock and horror, and not a little sorrow for the pain his brother suffered. Ed could handle that; he knew his brother understood. But to see it in anyone else's eyes was the main reason he spoke very little of it.

"It was fast and final. He never actually knew what hit him," he finished.

"Well, that was a blessing," Al said tentatively.

"For him," Ed answered.

The silence should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn't. Grief was instinctive to the Elric brothers; the wailing and gnashing of teeth was done on a genetic level. The question of _what now_ was rhetorical. Processing grief was hard wired into the brothers, something that had been ingrained in them for a decade. For them, moving through the stages was like taking a deep breath.

"I wish I could have been there." _For you_ , was unspoken.

 _And I cursed you for it,_ Ed thought. Anger had always been his go-to stage. _I cursed everyone I knew for not being there._ No use denying it. He never lied to his brother. "Yup," was all he needed to say.

]o[

Central Command had been completely moved and remodeled. Every trace of what had happened that ugly day was wiped away in the efficient work of a dozen of architects and alchemists.

The façade that was now Central was not as threatening as before. Instead of a utilitarian, u-shaped box of a building, it looked more like a sprawling compound, with large mansions scattered across the manicured lawns studded with delicate topiary. As they walked up the path toward the entrance, both stopped, enchanted by the message this place conveyed. So different from the original Central, it displayed the strength of its leaders, in the façade of each building, while softening the eye with the intricate elegance of the box hedges and flowers. Ed immediately took in the riot of colors in the flowers, almost an overdose for the senses, of a menagerie of hues and scents. Edward swore he could pick out every single scent in his path. It was beautiful, calming and very much what the country needed.

The main building situated in the center of the complex stopped the Elrics in their tracks. Of course they remember the building before them.

Alphonse looked at Edward. "The Armstrong Manor."

Edward nodded slowly. _Brilliant,_ Ed thought, moving the entire complex to surround one of the oldest mansions in the city. A bit of the familiarity of the old with the comfort of the new. Centering the government in the line of peaceful tradition of the past and the innovations of the future went a long way to calming the people. "This is probably where they stuffed General Obnoxious, relic that he is."

Alphonse chuckled. "Brother, thirty-four isn't exactly decrepit."

Ed looked around the front reception area. He looked up and up into the unbelievably high ceilings, then down at the bright, smooth marble floor beneath his feet. There was no feeling of cramped closeness, as there was in the original central. Here, people moved fluidly, efficiently and pleasantly, going about their daily duties as if they really cared.

"Man!" Ed stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels for a moment, taking in the scene. "This place still has that new building smell! Absolutely brilliant." The scent of newly cut wood, of fragrant floor wax, assaulted Ed's senses, the whole thing serving to make him completely at ease. The woman at the reception desk took one look at them; a quick scan of hair and eyes, and her own eyes grew as big as saucers. _Well, the watches could stay in the pockets this time._

"Colonels!" the woman almost squeaked, acknowledging both of them. "You're here!"

Ed and Al looked at one another. _This is how it was going to be, huh?_ "We're here to see General Mustang," Edward said, leaning over the counter with his brightest smile. That smile was a new weapon he'd added to his arsenal over the past few years, one that tended to work faster than his fist usually did. Of course with worked; the girl was flustered as she looked up at him.

"Oh! O-of, course, sirs. Ah, let me ring you up…"

"No need," Ed said. "Just point the way; I'm sure he's expecting us."

"Uh... oh! O-okay…"

"Rude," Al whispered as they moved in the direction the poor woman indicated.

"Rude is my middle name, remember?"

"I thought it was Victor."

"Tell _anyone_ and you're dead. Harold."

"Fuck you."

"Such language from your pure mouth!"

"How 'bout I punch you in your mouth."

"Anytime, little brother."

"Heh. You said little."

"Hey! Who you-," Ed started on a mini-rant, and then froze almost mid-step.

Alphonse stopped as well. "What is _that_?"

"Okay, so it wasn't just me?" Ed said cautiously.

Al stared. "You feel it too?"

"Well, considering it's as plain as the nose on your face, of course."

They were closing in on the double doors that led to the General's office. Alphonse shook his head slightly and straightened his shoulders as if he were bracing himself. "You okay, Brother?" he asked, looking at Ed carefully.

Ed was still standing motionless in the middle of the hall a few steps away. He turned his head slightly, jerkily, wondering what it was that he was sensing on the other side of the door. It was as if someone were performing alchemy, but not entirely. The electric, lightening tingle that brushed lightly across the surface of his skin was familiar, but the after effect was not. He looked down at his arm, his right arm, still thinner than his left, touching the goosebumps that suddenly appeared on the surface of his skin. The fine, blond hairs were standing on end. It was so light, so soft, that he could only feel it if he concentrated hard. He tried to place the sensation, but all he could come up with was it was as if he'd run across a carpet in stocking feet and had just touched a metal doorknob. The sharp little snap was there, but instead of disappearing, it lingered like low-frequency sound waves. It was a feeling he wasn't sure he liked.

He looked over at his brother, and then nodded his head. _Not sure._ "Yeah, I'm good," he said, mainly to assuage his brother's worry. "Just still tired from traveling is all. Let's go see what General Batshit is up to."

Al looked at him a second longer than was needed, then chuckled. "Why do you call him all kinds of names? Don't you have any respect for the man?"

"Of course I do. If I did, I wouldn't call him at all." He unconsciously rubbed his forearms, willing the hair to lay back down, just as they reached the door.

The brothers looked at each other, nodded once, and then pushed the double doors wide.


	4. Chapter 4

]o[ ]o[ ]o[

 **Ultraviolet**

 **Chapter Four**

 **Rating: T+**

The commotion in the front office jerked him awake. Roy's eyes flashed open and he stared up at the ceiling for a moment, getting his bearings. Listening, he heard the sounds of his team laughing and shouting good-natured greetings.

Roy yawned and swung his legs to the floor, rubbing the back of his head and stretching slightly. He stood and reached for his uniform jacket, sighing. _Nap time over, General,_ he muttered to himself and made his way to his desk, hoping to at least attempt to look official before his guest broke his door down. If it was whom he thought it was, breaking down the door was about an accurate description as anything.

As soon as he sat down, he felt the warm flush creep up the back of his neck again. Frowning, he put his hand to the pulse point in his left wrist and felt there for a moment. His pulse was racing as if he'd been running the military mile back in the academy. _Fuck._ Definitely would have to up his dose again. The energy expended in flame alchemy had something to do with it the doctors had told him. That and the fact that his body temperature always stayed at least two degrees above normal seemed to shift the efficacy of his medication into overdrive. Then his immune system would attack it, override it and render it practically useless. Tugging at his collar, he hoped that Molly had already called Knox.

Finally, the racket calmed down enough in the front so that Riza could open his door and let him know that his expected guests had indeed arrived. He didn't miss the slight warning on her face, and he nodded slightly to reassure her that he was as close to normal as he could possibly get.

The Elric boys (and, _damn_ , the two people in front of him were certainly no longer boys) followed on Riza's heels, Edward paving the way like a steamroller. Alphonse was only slightly behind him, same as always, but happily in a full, human form.

Roy grinned. "Well, look who it is," he drawled. "Talk up trouble and here it comes."

Ed chuckled a bit and started to move closer to the desk. "Never trouble trouble until trouble troubles you," he answered.

Alphonse stopped him with a touch on his arm. Roy frowned slightly, wondering about that when he saw the look in the younger brother's eye. It was a sharp look, suddenly alert and tense, gone as quick as a blink. A slight flare of Al's nostrils followed it. All the motion in Roy's brain slowed at that, almost screeching to a full stop, when a sudden, genuine smile twinkled the younger Elric's eyes and pushed everything else before it.

Roy warily watched as Al moved in _front_ of his brother, toward the desk and held out a hand. "General, it is so good to see you again," he said smoothly as if his initial reaction had not occurred.

Roy gave him a look hearing the slight rumble under the surface of his greeting, but took the offered hand. The younger Elric's skin was smooth and cool, and the handshake was firm. Then Roy realized that Alphonse felt the heat of his skin because Al gave him that look again and let him go slightly faster than was polite.

"Move the hell out my way, so I can greet the old codger correctly!" Ed grumbled, pushing his brother to the side and moving up to the edge of the desk.

 _Ouch,_ Roy thought, feeling the snap of static electricity run up the back of his neck. He blinked a little, and then pasted the patented Mustang grin on his face, willing his face to stay its usual pale. "Fullmetal, I see you've changed _little_ ," he said, opening the floor to their usual wordplay. He was curious to see what his former verbal nemesis would toss back at him.

Ed froze for a millisecond, taking in Roy's face with one sweep of his eyes, placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward.

"What the hell died on your lip, Mustang?"

Roy kept his smile glued on his face, but his insides were roiling as if he'd been suddenly made weightless. The feeling slapped him in the face, hard and fast. He blinked, and swallowed and for the life of him could not come up with a comeback to the apparent insult to his new grooming habits. Suddenly and urgently, he was not ready to play the insult game with Edward Elric.

At the same time, he saw Edward's eyes widen slightly as he stood holding the desk down with his palms. There was a flicker of _his_ nostrils as if he scented something… unfamilar in the air.

Roy's brain scrambled, trying to remember if the Fullmetal Alchemist had presented as anything before he left on his travels. He threw a slightly helpless look over Ed's shoulder at Al and saw the younger man shaking his head slowly in answer to the unspoken question. He pushed back his chair and retreated from the line of fire, as it were, heading toward the window to turn and look out and try to compose himself.

 _Well. That was certainly unexpected._

]o[

It reminded Alphonse of cloves. A mixture of clove, allspice, and something sharp. It was as if someone had burned a hundred sticks of incense in this room a week ago, and the fragrance still gently lingered in every bit of the air. He could scent it in the carpet beneath his feet, the upholstery, even in the cherry wood of the desk. It was an attractive scent, pleasant enough, but, to Alphonse, it was something he could ignore and push from his mind.

He wondered what Ed was experiencing, considering what he was going through. Each person reacted to an Omega's scent differently, but it looked as if it hadn't hit Ed fully yet. Alphonse wasn't surprised; his brother wasn't even aware of what was going on with _himself_.

Alphonse moved first to sit on the couch and as he contemplated the beautiful pattern in the carpet, tried to process what he'd just learned in that few short moments. Roy Mustang was an omega, not the alpha that most people believed he was. He'd been hiding his dynamic all these years and had been doing a damn good job of it.

Then there was Edward. His poor brother, all-unknowing, was presenting as an alpha even as he stood in the middle of an omega's territory.

An omega who, apparently was in heat.

Omegas rarely, if ever, took roles of leadership. They usually worked in the background, assisting their Alpha counterparts, helping where they could. They generally kept to the lower ranks – Second Lieutenants, Sergeants, Warrant Officers. It was too inconvenient for an omega to be in a position of authority when they would have to take leave about every other month to take care of what nature threw at them.

Omegas were nurturers. They cared for things, created atmospheres that were comforting to others. They fostered and developed; cultivated and supported. All of the things that one would expect of a person who brought life into the world. However, when Al thought about it in the abstract, all of that fit Mustang's professional persona as well. He'd done all of those things for the people in his command that ensured they were cared for, recognized and promoted when need be. However, Mustang had one striking thing that set him apart from other omegas Al knew, a thing that probably kept him safe and under the radar for all these years. Mustang was an undisputed leader, had portrayed all of the skills necessary for command from early in his military career. He was such a powerhouse of leadership and talent that most hardly knew what to make of him. His status as a State Alchemist probably shielded him from too close inspection as well.

Now, for some reason, that information was about to become knowledge to at least two other people the General probably never expected.

Al looked over and could tell Ed was trying to puzzle out what was going on. He also could tell his brother was getting pissed because the answer was elusive and just outside of his reach.

Mustang, facing the window, couldn't help his stiff, defensive stance. Despite the suppressing medication he was obviously taking, Alphonse – now that he was aware – could sense the protective shield pouring from the General. It was not the natural reaction of an omega in his circumstance, so Alphonse knew it was something that Mustang had sharpened to a fine art.

Overall, Al decided he had very little choice but to take the situation by its neck and shake a little, just to see what would fall out. He cleared his throat and wound himself up just enough, modulating his vocal chords properly. He really would rather not do this to such a friend, but he had a feeling that it would take an Alpha's natural dominance to make Roy talk.

"Explain yourself," he said, and compelled him with the lightest, most delicate release of domination. Tseng had told him once that his scent in this mood was similar to steel and oil, and carried not a little heat. He wasn't surprised; he'd spent most of his young life encased in steel and oil, which encased his warm, warm soul.

]o[

Edward frankly stared at Al, ignoring his own discomfort for the moment. He'd _never_ , in all of the hours of his life, had heard Alphonse Elric speak like that. Ed was so shocked he looked around to see if there was someone else of a lower rank than Al in the room. He was practically ordering – no, actually ordering – Roy to answer him. That was not something people did to the Flame Alchemist, not and remain in his presence long enough to get an answer. Ed even swore he heard the rumble of a light growl, like Den used to give them when they were irritating her too much. It was definitely an alpha's voice. Ed truly didn't know his brother had it in him.

He turned his head and saw Roy flinch slightly, as if struck. Then the man did a curious thing. He very slowly turned from the window.

"Hey, Al, do you have to be so rude?" Edward found himself asking.

Al crossed his arms over his chest. "He won't answer otherwise."

Ed looked askance at his brother. "So?" he said. "What is this all about that you have to be such an ass? That's usually my role."

Alphonse gave him a bland look, and then smiled slightly. "Relax, brother. I'm not going to interrogate him. I just want to know a few things. Important things."

It was obvious to anyone with two eyes that Roy didn't want to answer, but he did so, reluctance in every motion. That fact tapped Edward quietly on the shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

He'd never cared before which dynamic Mustang presented, and it didn't particularly bother him now. This weird display only confirmed that Roy Mustang was not, despite popular opinion, an alpha. Had he been one, Al never would have gotten away with the whole domination thing. Okay, so Ed wanted to laugh a bit at the fact that the vain assed peacock was not the alpha what wanted people to believe he was, but he held that mirth behind his teeth for the moment. Al thought it necessary to go here, and Edward wanted to know why.

There was steel in Roy's blue-black eyes, in the set of his shoulders, as if he were trying to remind Al to whom he was speaking. Alphonse he looked like he could care less. A dark-golden eyebrow arched at the token resistance. That was all.

Roy sighed and returned to his desk, his sanctuary. "What do you want to know?" he said quietly as he sat, hands folded in front of him.

Edward couldn't do much more than follow the conversation, and try to figure out why he felt like a live current caressed his skin, and why the fragrance of licorice, charcoal and black tea permeated every pocket of air around him.

 _Think, Edward, think. Clear the fog out of your ears and think._

"How have you hidden it all these years?" Al asked.

Edward stared at his brother. "Hidden what?" he blurted. Al held up his hand for silence. Ed subsided, nonplussed.

"Suppressants," Roy said, ignoring Ed's interruption. "Dammed good ones."

" _Why_ have you hidden it?"

Roy snorted. "Do you need to ask that? Can you see anyone taking meseriously as an effective leader of this country?" There was the voice Ed was used to, dark and sardonic, with a smile lurking underneath.

"Point taken," he heard Al say. "So, are you planning to reveal this after you're given the leadership?"

"Yes. When Grumman hands the office over; I'll retain my rank, but only in a military capacity. My dynamic has not, nor will have any impact on my military performance. As President, however, I will need to drop the pretense and deal with the fall out when it comes. And yes, I'll quit the suppressants then."

"Are you sure about doing that?"

"Wait, what?" Ed shook his head, just realizing what he thought he was hearing. "You're an omega?" he exclaimed, interrupting his brother's question. " _Bullshit._ "

Roy gave him a long look and it occurred to Ed then that he, in fact, had not _heard_ that word verbalized. It was as if the word hung there in the air, written in invisible ink that only few people could read. It caused an itch right under the surface of Ed's skin. Uncomfortable, he retreated to sit next to Alphonse.

He sat there and tried to sort out everything he knew about each dynamic. However, every time he attempted to settle into concentration, that bizarre miasma filled up his brain and sent him off on another, even stranger tangent.

Ed went back to his old standby for centering, reciting things he knew to be fact. _Hydrogen is the lightest element. Uranium the heaviest. Twenty-four elements make up a human body. There are eighty-seven screws in his automail leg, Roy is an omega and that, apparently, was very important to him._

"I have to," Roy raised his hands in mock surrender. "I don't want to minimize the natural traits of my dynamic in any way." He shook his head. "They make me who I am, but they don't take away from my ability to lead this country." He flicked a quick glance in Ed's direction. Ed caught it in his periphery and flinched away from it as if Roy had pinched a nerve.

 _You dumbass_ , Ed thought. _You_ know _what's wrong with you, you thick-wit. Come on, brain, cough it up._

Roy continued, "I know it's going to take an uphill battle to dispel common notions, but I'm going to do it."

Al nodded again. He followed Roy's instinctive gaze and looked over at his older brother. "Ed? Are you all right?" he asked carefully as if he were waiting for a particular answer.

Since Al seemed to expect it, Ed took the time to think about his reply. He tried to shove some of the puzzle pieces, heavy and dense as stone, around in his head to clear a space where he could think. "No," he finally said. "But I'm not sure what's wrong."

"You're having problems concentrating aren't you? Tell me how you feel."

That was easy enough. "Itchy. Like I've just completed a transmutation – or grabbed hold of a live electrical wire." He shrugged. "Just… itchy," he repeated. "And it's pissing me off that I can't concentrate enough to figure out what's wrong." He finally shrugged. "Maybe I'm still getting used to being back in Central, I don't know. Maybe that poor excuse for hair growth on Mustang's face is offending my sensibilities."

"Hey, there is nothing wrong with my moustache!" Roy said.

"There's nothing right with it either," Ed threw back. That felt better, more natural.

"It makes me look dignified."

"Who lied and told you that?"

" _Well, now._ " Alphonse stood smoothly. "Thank you taking the time to see us, and for answering my unexpected questions." He smiled at the General, who grimaced, but gave a weak smile back. "You know I meant no offense and I appreciate you being honest with me. Believe me when I say I won't let this information go any further than here." He looked at Edward sharply. "Let's go, Brother. We need to leave. _Now_."

"But-,"

"Seriously, Edward. We. Have. To. Go." Al strode toward the door, holding it open to usher his brother out in front of him.

Ed wiped his sweaty palms down his legs and stood. He looked around the office one more time. This time, he took a deep breath, trying to remember the scent, maybe to hold on to it for a little while. He liked it, he decided. It seemed to be the only pleasant thing about the whole encounter. He moved to the desk and reached across to offer Mustang his hand. "I guess we'll be seeing you… later?"

He waited while Roy looked at his hand with a raised eyebrow. Ed looked down, just to make sure it hadn't transformed into a hoof or a claw or something. No, it was still just a hand, though it was slightly trembling.

Slowly, the older man reached across and took it, closed his fingers around and shook.

The licorice/charcoal/tea scent smacked Ed full force in the face then, and he gasped, jerking away from the General and backing up three steps. The shifting puzzle pieces finally settled into place with the flush of heat that sparked up his spine and settled somewhere close to his right temple.

 _Oh, hell no._

"Edward!" Al called sharply. " _Let's go_."

Ed cursed and backed out of the door, letting Al push him in the middle of his chest until he was across the threshold and the door almost smacked him in the nose. He stumbled toward the outer door for a moment, spun then, grabbing his brother by his shirt. "Tell me what that was," he ordered.

His brother's mouth curved into a wicked little smile. Ed recognized it from long ago when Al put a frog down Winry's back and watched her chase Ed around the front yard with a tiny, child-sized wrench. He gave a little look, and Ed followed his gaze to take in the officers seated around them. The only one who thought Ed was acting odd was Riza, who had a short, wordless discussion with Al, before standing and moving toward Mustang's office.

Then Alphonse actually laughed, told everyone around them goodbye, and shoved Edward through the outer door.


	5. Chapter 5

]o[ ]o[ ]o[

 **Ultraviolet**

 **Chapter Five**

 **Rating: T+ for Language**

Hours later, Alphonse was still laughing and Edward was quickly losing patience. He'd managed to get the chucklehead out of Central and back to their rooms, and now it was time for his brother to answer some very pointed questions, whether he liked it or not.

"I wish you would tell me what's so fucking funny, Al," he growled as he opened the door to his dorm room. He flopped down on the couch and stretched out full length, throwing and arm over his eyes. When that didn't bring him any comfort, he sat up and ran his hands down the thighs of his pants, wondering why the hell they were so sweaty.

He heard Al chuckle a bit more, attempt to catch his breath, then he felt him perch in the small available space next to him on the couch. _Hope your butt cheek gets numb, Chuckles._

"I'm sorry, Ed, but it's just so ironic," Al answered.

Ed moved his arm and glared at his brother. " _What's_ so ironic?" Oh, he'd figured out what was going on, but he wanted, no _needed_ to hear it from someone else. He wasn't going to be the only one on this crazy train going to hell.

Al blinked at him, and then shook his head. "You don't even…" he sighed and stood, going to the connecting door he'd constructed between their rooms to make things convenient. Poking his head through, he called, "Tseng. Could you come over to Ed's room, please? I have a feeling about something, but I want to make sure I'm not imaging it."

Tseng came in, as calm as always, smartly dressed in a pair of casual trousers and a dark red tee shirt. Ed sighed and watched Al's mate as he moved to let Al pull him close. He took another moment to acknowledge the mark low on Tseng's neck. It was small, but definitely, something that proclaimed Tseng as Al's mate and Al's mate alone. Then he considered the way Al beheld his mate. It was a strangely protective look, as if there were something in the room from which to keep him safe. Ed tilted his head and studied Al's soft and affectionate smile.

Then he wondered exactly how much his brother liked roses. The fragrance curled into his nostrils all the way up to his brain, triggering both pleasant memories and memories he'd rather kept buried.

Al looked at him expectantly. Ed shrugged spreading his hands. "What?"

"You still okay?"

"Well, you're starting to give me a headache with all this mystery and the stupid questions, but other than that I 'm okay."

Al took a deep breath. "Wow! All of a sudden, I'm getting a craving for Winry's apple pie. What about you, Ed?"

"The fuck?" Al had finally lost his mind. That must have been it. All that time in the Gate was finally catching up to him. "Apple pie?"

Tseng spoke up then. "Alphonse always claims that I smell like apple pie to him," he said simply, grinning with all of his face. It made him even more handsome. "I think he's crazy."

"I'm beginning to agree with you," Ed said. "I smell roses, Al. Like the roses they put on Mom's grave. All over the fucking place."

The corner of Al's mouth turned up. He explained to Tseng. "The smell of roses annoys my brother. I reminds him of our mother."

Tseng put his arm on Al's shoulder. "I'm sorry. Perhaps I should leave?"

Al shook his head. "No, that's okay. I just wanted to make sure before I explained it all to him."

"Alphonse you are riding my last nerve." Ed was getting really tired of his brother's antics. Maybe if he frog-marched Al to the window and hung him outside for a little bit, he would get over whatever was bugging him.

"Okay, Brother. I apologize for all of the ambiguity." Al moved to sit by his brother; Tseng perched on the arm of the couch on Al's other side. "I just wanted to make absolutely sure. Now I am." He turned until he could look directly at Edward. "You're presenting, Brother."

 _That's what he thought._ Still, Ed's bottom lip took a quick trip to the area around his boots. It hung out down there and observed the dust under the couch for a while before returning to its normal position. "You're sure about that?"

Al nodded. "I can smell it all over you. Apparently, you are an Alpha. Just like me. Just like Winry."

 _That's what he thought._ Still…

"How?" Al preempted his question.

"Um… yeah. How?" Ed frantically tried to get his brain unscrambled so he could pay attention to what his brother was saying. _Presenting? Now? After all this time?_

"That itchy feeling?" Al began. "Your hormones reacting to the presence of a submissive dynamic. Tseng probably tripped the switch – he is rather close to heat. It usually is triggered by an omega going into heat, which explains why it was so strong when we got to the General's office."

Ed held up a hand. "Wait. You mean-,"

"Usually it's a stronger urge, your first time, unavoidable." Al kept talking, running right over what Ed was about to ask. "However, it's not so bad with you because the only omega in full heat you've come in contact with recently is on suppressants." Al chuckled. "Damn good ones."

Ed turned his head slowly after contemplating that tidbit of news for a moment. "No." He scooted away from his brother, wanting to escape and head out of the window himself. "Nope. Not a chance. Error in the equation, Brother."

"Sorry, but _this_ equation is infallible. What scent did you detect in Mustang's office? I got clove, for the most part. It was _quite_ delectable."

Ed blinked at him, feeling a bit queasy at the almost _purring_ undertone in Alphonse's voice. "I knew it; you're crazy. How do I know? One, because _you_ think it was _delectable,"_ he shuddered at the very thought, "and, two, it was obviously licorice, charcoal and black tea."

Al's smile was evil. "Licorice is still your favorite candy on earth? Then that's your trigger." He shrugged. "I'm still studying all of the details of the phenomena, but it seems that the suitable mate will present to an Alpha with a scent that triggers extremely positive sensations. Sort of a natural attractor. If an omega is not fit, or is already spoken for," He moved his hand toward Tseng, "they will present, and it will be strong, but the scent isn't quite as compelling. It will work in a pinch, but it won't be an ideal mating." He shrugged. "Since we're both alphas, the trigger worked with both of us. If I wasn't already mated, either one of us would-,"

"Shut up," Ed ordered, cutting that train of thought right in the bud. He heard his own voice deepen and closed his eyes. Then he gave Tseng a measuring look. Yes, roses were annoying to him; they did remind him of the sadness his mother felt whenever his father left her because Hohenheim always left roses. But it wasn't… repulsive. He leaned forward just a bit.

"Edward…" Al said softly, the warning buried deep, but still there.

"What?" Ed asked distractedly. It wasn't as cloying as he'd thought it would be. It was a soft smell, sweet like young roses. Nor was it overwhelmingly distasteful and he could handle it if he had to.

And maybe… he had to.

"Tseng. Go back to our room please," Al asked his mate, not taking his eyes from his brother.

Ed watched – he really couldn't help it – Tseng stand and move toward the connecting door. "Take care of your brother, dear one," Tseng said softly. "I won't wait up."

"Love you, Tseng."

"And I you, Alphonse."

As soon as the door shut, the fog dissipated from Ed's brain. It cleared slowly, leaving him wondering why his breathing was so shallow and why his brother was looking at him as if he'd like to introduce his foot to Ed's teeth.

"What did I do?" Ed asked, shaking himself slightly to clear away the last of the haze.

Al shook his head. "Nothing you could help. It's an instinctive reaction, Brother." He leaned back on the couch. "You couldn't help it anymore that I could help wanting to beat your ass for sniffing around my mate."

"Sniffing around… was I sniffing around… _your mate_?"

"Again, it's instinctive. Tseng is an omega who will be in heat in… maybe a week or two. You are very close to being a rutting alpha. When it comes to these type of things, your base instinct is to mate, and Tseng, being here, attracted your interest." He sighed. "Unfortunately – for you – Tseng is mine. You can't have him, and, as much as I love you, I would kick you from here to Risembool and back if you tried to touch him."

Ed gave a half chuckle. "Thanks for the warning. But what do I do now?" He looked down at himself. He didn't look any different though the itchy, uncomfortable feeling was still there percolating under the surface of his skin. He also started to feel a sweat break all over his skin, and he could feel his adrenaline pumping, as if he were ready to go fight some evil creature. He backtracked on that sensation, running through the encyclopedia in his head for the information he knew was there.

Yes, in alphas it wasn't just a _fight or flight_ instinct. Flight never came into the equation. Which explained all of his impulsiveness to date. In an alpha, even before presenting, the instinct was _fight or mate_.

Actually, he was surprised that the battle with Father hadn't triggered him way before now. His fight instinct had been overwhelming then. Running had never been an option. There were too many people to protect: his brother, Izumi, The men of Briggs, hell, all of Amestris at that point. Riza.

Roy. He remembered looking back at the First Lieutenant and the Colonel, right after he delivered his killing punch, as he sought a way to bring his brother home. He'd never seen Mustang look so… helpless. It wasn't just the blindness, he knew now. And Riza, she kept herself close to the Colonel, her hand always on him. Now that he knew what he knew, he realized it wasn't just a guiding hand. It was a protecting hand. Her body canted just so, in front of him, ready to step ahead and decimate anyone who threatened the then-Colonel.

"I can't go around sniffing out every omega I come into contact with, can I?" he finally said. With all of those memories, he'd come to terms with the facts. Nevertheless, he still had questions. Questions to which he probably did not want to hear the answers.

Again the shrug. "You could if you wanted to. You could even sleep with one if you wanted to. However, if it isn't your suitable mate, you won't knot and it won't be as pleasurable for you as it will be with that mate."

 _Well._ Though he had a bad feeling he knew the answer, he asked anyway _._ "So how do I figure out who _my_ mate is?"

Al stood and put a few feet of distance between them. Ed appreciated that little move; it showed that his brother still had some defensive tactics under the confidence and serenity he usually showed. Al moved to the small kitchenette and reached for a tumbler. Filling it with water from the faucet, he turned to his brother, answering the question before he moved closer.

"I think you've already found your suitable mate." He waited, to see what the reaction would be. He even took a large sip of the water, as if it would give him the energy he needed to strengthen himself should it become necessary to defend himself. "And, honestly? I think he's as surprised as you."

Ed looked down at the floor between his feet. The logical progression of facts was now properly marching through his mind, slowly and succinctly, leading to the destination that he knew waited for him, whether he wanted to head that way or not.

Well, he had never been one to shrink from an unpleasant task when it was important to his survival and well-being. He really didn't relish the idea of going through his first rut with only his brother and his brother's mate around.

In alphabetical order, he sorted through and used every foul word in his vocabulary. At last, he looked over at Al, his eyes narrowed.

"So. I'll ask you again – what the fuck do I do now?"

]o[

Three days later and Roy was in an untenable state.

He definitely had to go get a higher dosage soon, because this particular situation was completely unacceptable. The last time he'd seen Riza, she had entered his office right after the Elric brothers, a questioning look on her face that disappeared when she realized what was going on.

" _I'm going home now, Colonel,"_ he'd told her. " _Don't look for me unless there is some emergency. You know what to tell anyone who needs to know."_

" _Of course, sir."_ She paused then, and he could see her holding her entire body from a flinch then asked. " _Does this have something to do with the Elric brothers?_ "

Roy gave her a narrow-eyed glare. _"Perhaps."_

Now, his brain was far too clouded to try to think rationally. Besides, no matter how much time he spent discussing it with himself, the solution remained the same. He either had to accept the facts and seek relief or reject it and suffer.

This knowledge is what left Roy in his home library, in the large overstuffed chair in front of the cold fireplace, nursing a glass of twenty-year-old Stray Dog. All of the windows in his house were shut tight, and the thick curtains drawn shut. He'd stuffed an old blanket in the crack under the door, because he knew there was no way anyone would mistake the scent pouring from him, that permeated everything around him. The whiskey did little to reduce his temperature, but it did dull the almost constant, nagging ache all over his body. The cold towel went further in soothing him.

He didn't want this. He'd avoided _this very thing_ on purpose.

However, nature was a funny thing. It always seemed to know how to maintain balance. It never failed to keep the life cycle flowing. His alchemist training only confirmed this. Life only flowed in one direction; nature made sure that it continued to flow, despite the shortcomings of those who inhabited the world.

Mating was such a thing that nature used to level life's playing field. Nature made damn sure that suitable mates connected when needed and made it nearly impossible to avoid. Oh, it was possible – Roy had apparently managed for at least a decade and a half – but in the end, it served no purpose to put if off and just had him sitting in his own house feeling like it was a prison.

He remembered his aunt going on about the old saying that there was always someone for everyone. Now he had irrefutable proof that it was true, whether one chose to believe it or not.

There was no way he could take on the duties of President of Amestris while he was in full heat. Nor could he even hope to assume his duties with a child hanging off his waist. None of the old guard, those old lower ranking officers who'd remained after the dismantling of the former government, would take him seriously, nor would Parliament. Hence the suppressants.

His carefully constructed façade, along with his alchemic talent, allowed people naturally to assume he was an alpha, and he never went out of his way to correct anyone. Even with the chaos of the Promised Day, his plan worked.

A wave of heat hit him just then, making him curl up in the chair even tighter. _Damn,_ this shit _hurt._

Fuhrer Grumman would never have promoted him to second in command had he one inkling that Roy could not handle the task. The two years he'd spent in Ishbal, helping them rebuild from the ruins of a terrible decimation had been his upper-rank proving ground. He'd received commendation after commendation for his job there and had been finally relieved of the incessant gossip about how he'd reached his rank at such a young age. Barely thirty-four, he could foresee a long, productive life as a leader of his country. By the time he turned Amestris into the democracy he sought, no one would think twice about the fact that he was an omega. He might have even changed prevailing attitudes about omegas in general.

All that was scrapped now, by the arrival of two very unforgettable young men and a failure of modern medicine.

Roy cursed, watching the glass he flung shatter against the inside of the cold fireplace, getting a bit of satisfaction in watching the valuable liquor trail down the wall into a wasteful, useless puddle.

 _Useless._ That was the moniker he fought so hard to discard. He was the notorious Flame Alchemist, but he was _useless_ in the rain, _useless_ without connections, _useless_ in leading men and government. _A useless omega_ was what he heard whenever someone even said the word _useless,_ an omega only good for staying home and raising children, and doing whatever his son-of-a-bitch alpha told him to do.

"Fuck!" He shouted to the thin air and dragged both hands through his sweaty hair. Biting his bottom lip against the wave of pain that hit him in the midsection, _again_ , he turned and stared at the phone setting on his study desk. It was hiding under a book, holding his place while he had tried to distract himself with some alchemic research.

"Sir?" he heard the faint call of his security detail, right outside his window.

"I'm fine!" he said, putting as much authority into his voice as he could. The urgency of the heat reaction helped, and he heard the man move away from the window. He thought a moment then moved to the window, opened it just a crack more, and signaled the guard.

"You two, stand down for the night."

"But sir, that would be unwise-,"

"I'll take full responsibility," he said, stepping back when the guard came toward the window. "Now is not the time to question me." There, the authority, the command in that would be enough to send them on their way. "Report it however you like," he threw as he slammed the window shut.

Out of the chair, he was pacing again, just like a restless animal stuck in the smallest of cages. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, this fucking heat _hurt_. It made his legs tremble and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. Adding more medication wouldn't help either. He was too far gone for that. The pain came in aching shockwaves, traveling up and down his spine, settling in his abdomen, trying to crush his own determination _not_ to make that phone call that he knew was inevitable.

He climbed the stairs to his room and flung himself in the middle of his bed. Curling up didn't help; lying stretched out didn't help. He could actually feel the sheets absorbing the sweat the poured from every pore, and he didn't want to think about the other fluids his body was producing, preparing him for a mating he really couldn't deal with right then. It wasn't as if he didn't want it – oh, he _wanted_ it – but with the aching desire went all of his carefully laid plans. Up in flames, as it were.

As the ache moved through him again, he felt a whine build in the back of his throat. He scrubbed the sweat out of his eyes with the heels of his hands, and swallowed the mortifying sound before it could hit the thick, syrupy air around him.

He doubted that either of his potential mates would come to him unless he asked. To judge from their reaction, one was curious, but not interested, and the other probably… well, if he had figured out what was happening, he was probably fighting it with everything he had. Perhaps the younger was just now explaining things to the elder. Maybe, Roy thought with a grim smile, the younger brother was ducking the ass whipping of his life right then. There was _no_ way the elder, Roy's probable, potential mate (damn him) would gracefully accept where nature had placed him. It was in his disposition to fight the inevitable and batter it into submission if he could.

Roy chuckled bitterly. He'd probably had a hand in that habit, creating and nurturing the human cyclone who let no obstacle stand in the way of his peace. Perhaps that, too, had been a part of nature's plan, enticing Roy to follow up on that tenuous lead those years ago, that vague letter that was written by a pair of young boys looking for their father.

He growled into the air, and then winced when an ache began on his neck, from the back on each side, down to the middle of his shoulder blades.

He growled again. Nothing as impressive as an Alpha's growl, but it helped ease his tension for a second. _Fine._ He would do it again. He would follow the lead. He would… challenge the young man to follow a path not of his own making once again.

He reached for the phone, bracing himself with a flat palm on the top of his nightstand and dialed the appropriate exchange.

]o[

"Phone call for Elric!" came the sleepy voice through the dorm room door.

Ed and Al looked at one another. "Which one?" Ed yelled back.

"Oh, sorry. Colonel Elric," was the reply.

"Which one?" Al repeated.

The disembodied voice cursed. "Colonel _Edward_ Elric. Satisfied?"

Ed winced. He hated it when they used his rank. Always had, always would, even with the convenient little _Retired_ tacked on the end. Retaining his rank after retirement was not something about which he gave a great deal of thought. He hadn't even detached the stars from the letter that both confirmed his retirement and his promotion. The brothers exchanged a glance again.

"Who knows we're here?" Ed asked.

"Not many people," Al answered enigmatically. "Colonel Hawkeye for certain."

"Shit." Ed knew what _that_ meant. He'd managed to escape for three days. Granted, the days had been by no means peaceful, but that was something with which he was used to. He sighed and stood. "Let me go see what they want."

The common room was darkened and virtually silent. The only light was a small lamp burning at the table of a couple of enlisted men playing a late night game of cards. He reached for the phone and put the receiver up to his ear. "Yeah, make it fast."

"Ed-ward."

The voice in his ear was soft and deep. Quiet but insistent. It wavered at the beginning of the second syllable. It tripped down his spine like a transmutation. He should have expected it, after what Al had told him.

He closed his eyes. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell him to get bent, but the next phrases to come from his lips were short and concise.

"Where are you?" He scrambled for a scrap of paper and a pencil. "The address?" It still felt odd writing with his right hand again. "Right. I'm on my way."

A curious question filtered through the line then: "Are you s-sure?"

It took him a long time to answer. By that time, Al had joined him next to the phone, his questioning concern plain on his face. Ed shook his head at his brother. "Seriously? I'm not sure about any of this," he said finally. "But, I'm on my way." He placed the phone back on the hook as carefully as he could.

Looking at his brother, he smirked at the fact that Al was holding his overcoat. He waved it away; he was too hot for that damned thing. "Well, I guess the adventure is never over for me, huh?"

"You need a ride?"

Ed looked at the address he'd scrawled on the scrap of paper. "I think I do. You know where this is?"

Al looked at the paper. He whistled. "Exclusive neighborhood. Smart of him. Yes, I know. C'mon, let's see if there's a car available in the auto pool."


	6. Chapter 6

]o[ ]o[ ]o[

 **Ultraviolet**

 **Chapter Six**

 **Rating: M for Sexual Situations**

The ride to the address Roy gave them was interesting, as far as Ed was concerned.

Outside temperature notwithstanding, Ed found himself sweating. The moisture lightly coated his body, just enough to make him feel uncomfortable. The adrenaline rush he'd felt before was still pulsing through him, making his right leg jiggle in anticipation of… what? The sweaty palms weren't helping either. Nor was the uncomfortable state of his body below his belt line. _That_ caused him to squirm more than anything else did. It reminded him of when he was far younger and his dick got hard just because the wind blew in the wrong direction. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, in his vicinity that was remotely arousing, yet here he was, nursing a fucking hard-on that threatened to bust the buttons on his trousers. Overall, he felt as if he was taking an accelerated trip down puberty lane again and he didn't find it very amusing. Fortunate for him, his brother kept his eyes on the road and barely gave his brother a second thought.

Twenty minutes later, they stopped in front of the house. They both leaned over and looked up – and up – at the façade. What looked like one hodge-podge house were actually two townhouses. That was evident by the doors.

Ed looked down at the address again. "His is on the left. The big one."

"Nice," Al commented, trying unsuccessfully to lighten the mood.

Ed leaned back the in the passenger seat and took a moment to compose himself. He rubbed his palms against his thighs. He reached around and massaged his neck; it was aching in the oddest way. He blew out a calming breath, willing his heart to quit slamming up against his breastbone.

He was stalling; he knew he was stalling. Al knew he was stalling. So Al, ever the helpful sibling, reached across and rolled the window down on Ed's side, to move things along.

Ed inhaled sharply. The scent was thick in the air, unlike before in the man's office. Black licorice, tea and allspice. Now it tugged at him, pulling him toward the building. He gave Al a disgruntled look before he opened the door.

"How does no one else smell that?" he asked once outside. He was almost dizzy with it, his trousers grew even tighter, and a low rumble came from the back of his throat.

"Like I said, that's your personal attractor. What I smell is utterly different. Betas don't even sense it at all; other omegas would just know there was another omega around."

"Well that's bloody fortunate for him. Else his whole cover would be blown."

Al took in the house again. "All of his windows are shut. No way would anyone be able to tell where it's coming from. Any other omega would have been screaming with the windows wide open. Just call when you're ready to come home," Al offered.

Ed grunted and slammed the car door shut. As Al moved off, he stared at the building waiting… for what he had no idea. The one of the curtains on the ground floor windows twitched. Ed squinted and could just make out the shadow peeking out, then retreating and Ed exhaled.

 _Here went nothing. Or everything._

The jogged up the stairs, looking around the grounds, wondering where Roy's security detail was hiding. All of the major players on the Promised Day had the option of taking a security detail. He knew Roy took the prerogative, even though Ed had told the military thanks but no thanks. Ed snorted, and rapped twice on the heavy oak door. Well, it didn't matter right then anyway.

It opened slowly and the figure standing there looked nothing like the man he'd seen in the office scant hours again. Gone were the polished uniform and shiny boots. He was dressed in a loose pair of pajama bottoms and a thin white tee shirt. Feet bare, hair disheveled, Ed was certain that he'd never seen Roy Mustang looking less than perfect. The poise that came with his rank had skittered away to hide somewhere safe. The pale, sweating lightly trembling person that stood there, trying to look dignified, made all of the spit in Ed's mouth evaporate.

 _Oh, fuck that fucking scent_ – it was wrapping all around him now, yanking him more effectively into the house than if the man had grabbed him by his nostrils and pulled.

He stepped over the threshold and moved around Roy to shut the door. It put him a position to be behind the older man, close enough to smell the sweat on the back of his neck. Ed noticed the red marks that trailed down either side of Roy's neck, the slightly swelling skin that marked its path down to just below his shoulder blades. _Scent glands_ , Ed thought, yanking that bit of information from his mind. Another sign of a heat in full motion. They were swollen, so that an alpha would know where to leave his mark. It was also where that tantalizing aroma was the strongest. So strong that Ed had to bend down, just a bit, and let his face ghost over Roy's skin there, taking it in and wallowing in it. That rumbling sound emerged from Ed's throat again.

He saw Roy flinch and looked over his shoulder at the younger man. Ed noticed that his eyes were slightly glazed, feverish looking. "Are you sure about this?" the older man asked, his voice trembling. "I think I can make it if you don't want-,"

"I don't think so," Ed said softly, knowing the lie for what it was. "Are _you_ sure of this?" he asked the unsteady creature in front him, standing scant inches from him, frozen in sensation.

"Do I really have a choice?" Roy bit out, almost resentfully.

"Everyone has a choice," Ed whispered. Normally, he would have spent a little time in seduction and foreplay, but a heat didn't allow for such delicacies. This first time was going to be savage, animalistic. He made sure to keep in the back of his mind that he was _not_ going to hurt the omega. Fortunately, their size and build were similar, so he could hold the physical domination that was bound to occur to a minimum.

He dared to put his hand on Roy's shoulder. It was fascinating that he was finally a few inches taller. In other circumstances, he would have made some joke about it, but Roy didn't look like he was in the mood for any type of levity. With the hand, he turned Roy to face him. He slapped the light switch beside the door, casting the foyer into a strange half-darkness, and then placed both hands on the door, framing and capturing the man between them. "Everyone has a choice," he repeated. "I think I've satisfactorily proved that time and again."

A strange croak that sounded kind of like a laugh came from Roy's throat. "Of all of the alphas in Amestris, it had to be you. I think someone somewhere has it out for me."

Roy was practically vibrating, standing there, trying not to look like was in any way submissive to the man in front of him. Only Ed, attracted directly and attuned to this omega, would have been able to tell that Roy was failing miserably. No other alpha (with the exception of his brother) would be able to tell. It would keep them from daring to horn in on his territory. He shook his head to clear out that unbelievable thought. His territory? _Aw hell._

"For us both. But," Ed chose his words carefully because he knew beyond a doubt that he was _not_ going to leave this house anytime soon. "Sometimes you just have to move forward to see where the path will take you."

Roy leaned forward, his forehead touching Ed's, submitting to the inevitable. Ed felt the heat emanating from him in waves and that closed the deal for him.

"Then…" Roy said, finally letting go and breathless in his urgency, "hurry up and let's do this thing."

Something in Ed's mind made a complete shift, as if his logic centers were moving out of the way of pure, animal instinct. If he was a damned alpha, his mind and body were telling him, then it was time he started acting like one.

One hand moved to cup the back of Roy's head, the other landed on the man's shoulder to pull him even closer. Gently, he dug his hand into the hair on the back of Roy's neck and pulled, raising his face. He moved again, making Roy bare his neck. _In for a cens, in for ten thousand._ Ed lowered his head, baring his teeth as he did so, knowing what he had to do before they did anything else. Only a small part of his brain noticed that Roy was panting softly, gripping his hand with one of his own, and trying to hold on to whatever dignity he had left.

Ed's mouth brushed against a spot just in reach on the back of Roy's neck, where the scent was strongest, his teeth grazing gently. "Here?" he whispered, letting his breath ghost over the hottest spot.

"L-lower," Roy managed. "I have t-to-be a-able to-,"

"Hide it for now. You're thinking, even now." Ed pulled him closer and turned his neck just so, moving a bit lower, right where the neck met the shoulder met the back. "Then here." He took a bracing breath and bit down, feeling his teeth break the skin.

Roy gave a strangled, muffled cry, tensing all over when Ed tightened his jaw slightly; making sure the mark was deep enough. There would be no gentle, tiny mark here; it wasn't in his nature. Now that he accepted his lot in life, there was no way he would let anyone mistake his mark for anything less than what it was. He sucked, growling softly in his throat, the scent now assaulting his senses like a thick and heady smoke. He felt Roy's arms reach around his torso, felt the fingers dig deep into his back, felt himself being pulled even closer.

He shoved a knee between Roy's legs as he continued to suck and nip at the roughened skin of Roy's neck. His tongue lapped up the tiny dots of blood he'd raised on the surface of Roy's skin. Then he just buried his nose in the crook of the older man's neck and inhaled.

"Damn," he hissed. "I wish someone had told me how this would feel. I would have come home sooner."

" _Please_ …."

He raised his head in surprise, taking the flushed face, the piercing gaze, at odds with the plea in his voice. This was _so_ hard for Roy, reduced to a supplicant puddle in Edward's arms. He shook his head and placed his hands on Roy's shoulders. "Sh. That's not how this is going to go, Mustang." Taking a step back, he ran his right hand over the shoulder and down, grasping Roy's hand in his own. "You do not have to beg," he stated, licking at the leftover blood on his teeth. "You're _my_ omega now. You can have whatever you want from me."

Roy looked at the ground for an eternal moment, and then moved, guiding Ed down the hallway toward the back of the house.

The trip was longer than Ed would have thought, and walked past several rooms and through a great room situated in the center of the house. A double staircase swept up on either side of the room, leading to the second floor. Roy took the right staircase, slowly working his way up, with Ed's hand still clutched in his own.

"Fucking big house, Mustang," Ed said, almost sounding like his old self. "Don't you get lost?"

Roy's shoulders shook slightly, and Ed heard a soft chuckle. _Good, he was relaxing – well as much as he could._ "The first month was torture," Roy said, his voice rasping slightly. "I kept heading down the hall to the kitchen when I was trying to leave."

"Think I'm going to need a map." Roy looked at him sharply. Ed gave him a passive look back. "I am going to be here for a while, right? It would suck if I couldn't find my way back from taking a piss."

Roy ingested that, and then laughed softly. "You have not changed, Fullmetal."

"I'm taller."

"Hm." He stopped in front of a closed door. "My suite," he announced.

Again, Ed found himself spitless. He let Roy open the door and followed him inside.

The room was larger than any room he'd stayed in anywhere, dwarfing even his suite in Drachma's royal palace. It seemed to take up the whole half of the floor. As he looked around, he realized that here he could see the real Roy Mustang, the one who hid behind the stiff wool uniform, emblazoned with stars and medals.

It was a strongly appointed, masculine room, full of dark woods and vibrant, deep colors. There was a fireplace to his left, with a gorgeous patterned rug flung in front. A winged chair sat to one side, along with a side table. A book lay there, opened and marked with one of Roy's gloves. Further, in, Ed took in the dark mahogany wood wardrobe and the wooden butler that held his uniform jacket. Boots placed just so next to the stand, pants folded on a wooden chair sitting nearby. Ed turned some more and took in the huge bed, where a family of four could probably fit comfortably with room to spare. He grinned slightly when he took in the enormous pile of pillows pushed against the headboard. Here was a man after his own heart; Ed couldn't sleep anymore without more than three pillows at any given time. He half expected to see the sheets and covers arranged into some sort of cocoon; somewhere he remembered hearing about some omegas nesting during their heat. It was something that made no sense. If the heat he could feel pouring off Roy were any indication, he would expect someone to want fewer sheets.

And fewer clothes.

He let Roy's hand go and turned. The spot on Roy's neck drew him again, and this time he had full access to the back of his neck and he nipped, tasting the damp, sweet skin, and sucked, deepening the bruised color even more. "No backing out now," he husked against Roy's neck, moving upward to a spot right behind the man's ear. As Roy dropped his arms and tilted his head down, a tight feeling ran through Ed's chest as if his insides were making room for more emotion than was already there. The nervousness he felt ebbed away, leaving nothing but an undeniable desire and the feeling of… possession. Yes, possession was a good word. It was a great word to explain the reason behind his sudden motion, pushing Roy backward toward the bed until the back of his knees hit it and made Roy crawl up onto the mattress. Still forward, manhandling and flipping until Roy was on his stomach beneath him. Ed straddled the older man and pressed his lips to as much skin as he could find.

The shirt would have to go. He reached for it and tugged, hearing the buttons popping. Roy lifted his arms and let him pull it off not offering any resistance. Rather, there was an urgency coming from the body beneath him, captivating him and urging him to move his mouth down, down until it reached the point where his spine began at the base of his neck. The whole area pulled at him, taunted him and he tasted it first, relishing in the needy sound that escaped from the omega body beneath him. Then he nipped at it, smiling as Roy completely stiffened and arched, giving him better access. He moved back to his still tender mark, gave it some more attention, and felt Roy squirm slightly under him. This time, when he rolled his tongue over hit, he heard a low grunt and a slow whine that came from somewhere near the bottom of Roy's feet to escape out of slightly parted lips.

"We'll have time for more exploration later, then," Ed whispered. He made short work of the pajama bottoms and was gratefully surprised to find that there was no other barrier between him and what seemed like acres and acres of hot, rough skin. This wasn't the soft like petal skin of a girl. It wasn't Mikhail's pampered skin. It was an active man's skin, rough in places, smooth in others. It felt good; it felt right. He ran his hand slowly over the curve of Roy's ass, and curled one hand around the top of his thigh.

He sat up and pulled Roy onto his hands and knees. He looked down at Roy's urgently flushed cock and smiled. "Now I see how you managed to make it through life without getting caught." That was no underachieving, omega's cock, useful only for the call of nature. It was a nice size, which gave Ed a very good feeling. Turnabout was always fair play, so he knew that he would get satisfaction as well from this bonding, not just a primal easing of his needs.

Roy tried to laugh. "I've always been an overach-chiever," he said. Finally moving, wiggled from under Ed and turned on his back, scooting to rest against the mound of pillows, looking down at his soon-to-be mate. As Ed followed to rest between his legs, arms resting on Roy's thighs, he offered another tidbit of information. "Maes knew."

Ed ran a finger over Roy's thigh, smoothing the soft, dark, downy hair there. His finger trailed upward to the space where his leg met his crotch and ran a curious finger through the curls that fanned out around Roy's cock. It had been a long, long time since he'd been in this position. That he was in this position with this person was still blowing his mind, somewhere deep in there. "I figured he would." Tilting his head, he asked, still entranced by the scene in front of him. "I would have thought Maes would be your mate."

"No," Roy said. "He reminded me of sawdust and turpentine." A shiver ran all the way down his body. "It drove me crazy. It was a real testament to our friendship that I didn't kick him out of our dorms every other month."

"And what do I smell like to you?" He felt Roy holding his breath for a moment, while his finger wandered down, beneath Roy's balls and to the patch of skin just behind there. It was wet and slick from the natural lubricant dripping from Roy's entrance. He let his index finger wander further and circle the tight pucker slowly in a clockwise motion.

Roy exhaled. "Ah… you s-smell like…mmm…sweet port wine… oh….and something else…I've…uh…never smelled anything like it before."

Ed slid the finger into the first knuckle, slowly, experimentally. He had to make sure that this was what Roy wanted. _Really_ wanted, not just needed. Talking would get them nowhere at this point; he knew that it would take action to get Mustang to lay his piece decisively down. It had become imperative in his mind for this to be more than just a rutting, a claiming for convenience. Roy tensed a bit around his finger then released. Ed turned the finger a little then pushed some more, this time to the second knuckle.

Roy closed his mouth over a beseeching keen, muffling the sound. "Ah! More…m-more…" he panted.

Ed hummed low in his throat and pushed the finger all the way in. He allowed the fluttering to subside, then began moving it in and out, curling it slightly, looking for that golden spot he knew was in there. The sounds Roy made at this were music to his over stimulated senses. No hesitation, no doubt was in that voice that rumbled and groaned slowly. He introduced the second finger, sliding through the slickness seeping from the omega, just as slow, just as determined. He had to grab Roy's hip to stop him from thrusting onto the pair of digits buried deep inside him. "Slow, Mustang. I know you need it, but we gotta take it slow."

"Mmhmmm… _fuck_!"

"Yeah I know," Ed whispered, pressing his lips to the inside of the older man's thigh. When he curled his fingers again, he was rewarded by a tight shout and the arch of a lithe body. "Got it." He said, smiling. Roy was slippery with the moisture that naturally flowed from his body, preparing him for the most important part of the coupling ritual. After a quick scissoring, Ed figured that with all that there was no way that it would be hard for him to get into the willing omega.

He kneeled on the bed, pulling Roy's thighs slowly as he positioned himself. "Remember. You won't be the only one always submitting in this thing. Okay?" He waited for Roy's jerky nod then, with a slow groan, he pushed forward and slid in without further preamble. He watched Roy's eyes grow wide and glassy as if he were not quite all there, watched his mouth open in a silent cry.

He pulled himself closer, closer, until he was buried to the hilt and throbbing in the tight wet heat surrounding his cock. "Shit, Roy… this is too good to be true… _fuck_!"

"Come on…Ed… _please_." Roy started to rock, trying to move, thrust, pull, and push all at the same time. He was getting frantic, Ed could see, and right then, right now, he was okay with that. This first rut would be just that, a wild, unrestrained rutting that would satisfy Roy's particular itch.

He moved forward until Roy almost bent double and buried his face into the side of Roy's neck as he began to thrust in earnest. The unleashed cries and wails coming from Roy were intoxicating, to say the least, by far the best thing he'd heard since hearing his brother's first words when he came out of the Gate. That deep, guttural, voice drove him on, Roy's scent made this more urgent, more imperative, made his strokes that much faster, harder, and wilder. He prayed to whoever was watching over them that he wasn't hurting Roy, but it was on him now, no doubt, and Roy needing this pounding and both had to be assuaged.

Now that the adrenaline rush was allowed free reign, Ed could feel the blood rushing in his veins, obliterating every sensation other than the hot, warm, _tight_ wetness that was Roy. Hell no, this did not compare to any other encounter he'd had before and there was no way he was going anywhere anytime soon.

"You're mine, right," he grunted, lifting his head and meeting Roy's glazed eyes. "Mine." He punctuated each word with a rough thrust.

" _Mmmmm…ohshiiiiitttt….yes…..aghhh!_ "

"Remember that. When you're. In. Your. Office. Oh, _fuck!_ Pretending. And your shirt. Rubs. Up against my mark." He braced himself on his arms then and let himself go, glad for the pillows that were cushioning Roy's head. "Remember…. _shit, goddammit_! That."

" _Ah-ah-ah_ -pl— _ah—please—yes, yes, yes….I'll remember_. Just… _please don't stop!_ "

"Wasn't planning on it." The time for conversation was officially over. There was nothing left but primal sounds, the sound of slick, wet slapping, and hisses from Ed when Roy's fingers dug into his back. Roy started scrabbling at some point, moaning and whining, trying to pull Ed closer, raising his head, trying to reach Ed's neck. Ed adjusted, sitting back on his knees and pulling Roy up to sit in his lap, tilting his own neck to the side so Roy could ease his ache, and mark _him_ as well, make him _his_ , close the circuit, make this strange journey complete.

Roy moved, snatching control in a last rebellion, up and down, harder and faster, his hands, mouth and teeth latched onto Ed's. Hands gripping his shoulders, mouth moving down Ed's neck, down his shoulder, back up, sucking and pulling and breaking skin and growling. Ed returned the favor and then they were attached everywhere, making damned sure that this coupling took and that nothing could tear it apart.

Ed felt a tightening growing in his cock, into that part that was plunging deep into Roy's tightness, a throbbing that seemed to get stronger and stronger each time he thrust upward and Roy crashed down, his cries muffled against Ed's shoulder. _So this is how it feels,_ Ed thought, as lights burst behind his eyelids and all sense dribbled slowly from his ears, and words tumbled freely from his lips, possessive words, loving words, vulgar, nasty and rude words. He felt the base of his cock growing, the skin stretching, and it was getting harder and harder to thrust, but he did it anyway and Roy was crying out, stuttering and gibbering madness in his ear, then there was a high whine from a broken throat that he wouldn't have believed had come from the man wrapped around him, the one with deep voice that dripped sarcasm and cynicism in the daylight hours.

And it was harder and harder to thrust now, because the base of his cock was swelling and he was getting ready to come and he wanted to warn Roy, but he couldn't even remember what language to speak, let alone form coherent sentences, and it didn't seem to matter, because the whine had turned into sharp, staccato cries and when at last he tried to pull out for one more thrust, he found himself unable to move anymore, and Roy _almost_ screamed in reaction, and there it was, and there it was, they were knotting and finally, _finally!_

He was _really_ an alpha, there was no doubt about it now, and he was mated, and it was damned fucking good. He released then, flooding Roy with even more than he was given, locked it all tight inside, and they slowed, slower and slower, and finally stopped, clutching each other tightly, breathing each other's air, taking each other's scent on their lips, their tongues, into their very being. As they clung to each other, Ed felt the stick evidence of Roy's release and sighed, glad he had thrown the older man over the edge along with him.

The first phase of the heat was over, they were bonded, and it was final.

Yet, the both of them knew that the ride was only just beginning.


	7. Chapter 7

] o [ ] o [ ] o [

 **Ultraviolet**

 **Chapter Seven**

 **Rating: M**

Roy's eyes drifted open slowly, like the slow burn growing in him once again, moving from his feet to the top of his head. He had no concept of time, had no idea how long it had been since he let Ed into his house and into his body. But, from the urgency rippling through him, the hotness and slickness burning him, he knew he had a long time to go before this was over.

He lifted his head slightly and saw Ed seated cross-legged on the end of his bed, completely nude. The ease with which he sat there, as if sitting in wait to fuck the hell out of someone was an everyday occurrence was amazing to Roy. Of all things he would have imaged, it was not seeing the former Fullmetal Alchemist calmly sitting naked at the end of his bed, reading.

He must have made a noise, because Ed looked up at him, closing the book slowly, and tossing it toward the table beside the bed. As Roy watched, Ed's eyes cleared from whatever he'd been reading and he leaned forward, crawling toward him with a different kind of sparkle in those gold depths. It made Roy shiver; it made his omega side pant and whine. He wasn't sure which made an appearance just then, but the half-smile on Ed's face let him know that his need was duly noted.

"Are you all right," Ed asked quietly, moving between Roy's still spread legs. He moved until his arms were around Roy's waist and his head was just above Roy's chest. "Do you need water or something?"

Roy nodded first to the question, and then found the words he wanted. "How long...?"

"Two days," Ed said, as he stood and moved to the nightstand, where a pitcher of water sat, and water condensation dotting the outside. He poured a tall glass and carefully crawled back on the bed to offer him the glass. "It must be easing if you can ask that question. You were pretty incoherent back then." He peered into Roy's eyes, reading his neediness. Roy took a deep swallow of the water and watched as Ed sat back on his knees and pulled at Roy's free hand, lifting him into a seated position. "I suspect you'll be back to your old obnoxious self pretty soon." Without looking, Ed took the glass and put it back on the nightstand.

Roy laughed weakly. "You think?" It was strange; he felt so weightless, boneless as Ed pulled and tugged, rolled and positioned him on his hands and knees. There was utter possession in his rough and calloused touch, but it wasn't overwhelming, or as stifling as Roy expected it to be. Ed hands on his body, as light trails of liquid wax, were simply an acknowledgement that Roy barely had the strength to do such things himself.

When he got Roy in position, he knelt up and yanked Roy's hips back into his. Roy felt the hardness of Ed's cock between his ass cheeks and he hissed and arched, letting go of what little civility he'd been holding on to, trying without words to tell his mate that he needed more than just a brush of skin on skin.

As a man who enjoyed sexual pursuits, it was a strange thing that we was on the other side of desire. Craving Ed's cock inside of him like a starving man craved even a crust of bread; he dipped his head and groaned, not knowing how to put into words something that had no words.

Ed chuckled, ran a hand down his back and crooned deep in his throat. Roy felt the sound deep in his core, and felt the touch like a whip crack on his spin. He closed his eyes and moaned, arching more into both, willing Ed to get on with it.

He felt Ed drape his body over his own, felt Ed's breath hot on the back of his neck, hovering just around where he'd been marked. Roy couldn't help it; he began to vibrate again. It was hard to get air into his lungs; he couldn't remember ever feeling like this before. Gasping, he began jerking under Ed's touch. _What was taking him so long?_

When he felt the teeth break his skin again, Roy let out a high keen that shocked even him. He felt the blaze in his throat, felt the stretch in his lips and he clenched his teeth around the sound. He thanked whomever was in charge that he was smart to make sure his walls were sufficiently insulated and sound proofed. It had been something he'd needed for his alchemical practice, but it worked just as well for this.

"Okay. It's okay, I got you," Ed murmured, even as he licked at both sides of Roy's neck, bathing the scent glands with soft touches. Roy clenched his teeth again as he felt Ed position himself, and his shaking increased. _Yes! Right there. He wanted – no needed it – right there._ The moisture trickled from his entrance and down his legs as he waited. _Only his mate's cock shoving into him would ease that burn it was scalding hot so hot please oh please dammit Ed do it already—_

Ed's left hand grasped his shoulder; his right wrapped over his waist and he yanked, pulling Roy back onto him with a swift stroke. They groaned in unison at the relief in the action. Roy felt Ed's forehead against his back for a moment, felt the slick sweat there, felt the soothing warmth of his mate's sweaty skin wrapped around him for just long enough for him to relax. Then Ed began moving in earnest, and all logical thought, language skills, and anything else that marked him as a dignified human flew completely out of the window. Roy was lost again to the mating ritual.

There was no talking; it wasn't necessary anymore. No warning, no explanations needed; they both knew and were comfortable with the knowledge. Roy's ears took in the sound of his ass meeting Ed's skin, the rough growls coming from the younger man with each thrust. His touch took in the roughness of the fine hairs on Ed's thigh as he reached an arm back to try to pull him closer. And inside— _inside_ —all he felt was the hard, thick, hotness, shoving in and out, filling every inch inside of his body with possession, pulsing with it, he could feel every single inch of that hardness, reaching deep into him, seeking something just out of reach for the moment. Ed fit so easily inside of him, as if he'd been fashioned just for him, like a seal and matrix, completing a circuit, clasping a chain.

Roy tried, but just-couldn't-speak. His throat felt raw; who knew how many hours he'd been screaming over the past few days. He certainly remembered little but this, this thick cock sliding in and out of him repeatedly; rendering him just as useless as he feared he would be as an omega in heat. But, instead of the anger, he thought he would feel, there was nothing but a fierce satisfaction, and a confidence that he was safe being useless in this one, spectacular moment.

He looked down at the pillow in front of him as Ed's strokes grew more urgent, less rhythmic and watched the sweat drops hitting the pillow as he moved with each lunge. Then his ears twitched when he heard Ed's voice pouring over him, chanting over and over as his movements grew faster.

"Mine."

 _Okay,_ Roy thought, _he could deal with that here, in this instance, within these walls._ He could deal with being owned, especially if the claiming always felt this dammed _good._

Roy felt it then; his body clung to it, when Ed's cock began to swell. With each pull, it got tighter and tighter and tighter still, stretching him more if that were possible. It drew a long humming sound from the back of his throat, as if what was left of his voice was preparing for another onslaught of sound. Now, both of Ed's hands grasped his waist, fingers digging into his skin, and this thrusting grew jagged, harder and slower, dragging and pulling at Roy's entrance. The hum grew louder, and Roy started to shake unable to control his movements any more.

Suddenly, Ed yanked, pulling Roy upright into his lap, and the beautiful agony of the stretch and burn, as Ed's knot locked them together dragged a sound from Roy's throat, before he was ready, and drove him to a climax that came out of absolute nowhere and drove his body into to uncontrollable paroxysms of pleasure and satiation.

They came down slowly, Roy feeling his stamina leeching from him like blood from an open wound. A small part remained, deep in his chest, waiting for the next wave. He collapsed against Ed, who wrapped his arms around Roy's waist and crooned in his ear, soothing him from the inside out.

It was a close thing, but the two managed to move and twist into a more comfortable (comfortable being subjective) position while still locked together. Roy didn't quite realize how limber a body could get when it needed to. At the end of all of the gyrations, painful hissing and whispered apologies, his back was pressed against Ed's chest and they were curved just right so that movement other than breathing and talking weren't even necessary.

"Are you okay?" Ed asked. Roy tried to answer, but it just came out as mumbled nonsense into his pillow. Ed chuckled. "Don't understand pillow yet, come again?"

"I said I'm perfect," Roy rumbled after raising his head slightly. That was too much exertion; he flopped back down on the pillow and snuffled into it again.

"Well, _I_ was going to say that, but I didn't want to boost your ego even more."

"mmmm-uck you."

"I just did."

Roy shook slightly with laughter then moved so he could speak more coherently. "So. This wasn't the way I planned for my week to go."

Ed frowned slightly. "Do you have regrets?"

Roy made himself think hard. Finally, he admitted, "Not particularly, not now. Not about _you_. About the timing."

"Ah." Ed ran a hand over Roy's shoulder and touched the mark with a finger. Roy figured could safely hide it beneath a jacket and a shirt.

His mark on Ed? Not so much. Even now, he could picture it, carved into the skin of Ed's neck like a brand.

"When is Grumman planning on handing everything over to you?" Ed was asking.

"Another half year," he answered. "And then it's going to take another half year for people to get used to me and the way I want to run things." He squirmed a little, testing to see if the knot still held. "And then…"

"And then?" He felt Ed hold his breath.

"Then we can put this… thing down on paper and make it right."

"But until then, things are going to have to go a different way."

Roy sighed. "I don't really want to hide this, you know." He stopped talking for a moment, trying to find the correct words in the fuzzy mess of his mind. "I've never _truly_ hidden my nature. I've suppressed it; never volunteered it to anyone who didn't need to know."

He could practically hear Ed's brain working, like always, taking the information he was being given and extrapolating it into an idea that would maintain Roy's status quo. "No need to hide _this_ either."

"Edward, we can't." _No that was wrong_ , Roy thought. _I can't._ In that instant he wondered, _was that fair of him to be that way?_

"We can't tell the world I'm your alpha. I know that." Roy watched him run through a few scenarios in his mind, testing theories in a vacuum. "But, who _needs_ to know that information? Who would you _have_ to tell?"

Roy considered. "My men. My personal physician. Not my security; nor my assistant." He propped his head on his hand. "They don't need to know as long as Hawkeye knows."

"Okay. So we tell them."

"Then what? There will be questions as to why you're… here… a lot."

Ed snorted. "You mean why I'm going to be here all the time?"

Roy muttered a curse under his breath. Well, of course he would be here all the time. "Okay, why you're going to be here all the time. There will be questions, Ed."

Ed twitched his hips for a moment. Roy's hiss stopped him; they were _still_ locked. "I certainly hope the birth control you're on is more effective than that dammed suppressant."

"It's a totally different formulation." Roy twisted his head. "It's an implant; a fine tuned thing that Knox designed to work as a spermicide."

"Wow," Ed was impressed; Roy could hear that. "Any way, you're right, the questions will be asked. And we'll answer only what they want to hear."

"I'm not getting you, Edward," Roy was shaking his head. In the midst of this everything, he could feel his temperature moving again; coiling in his chest to spread painfully slow outwards, like a transmutation array. As Ed pressed his nose to Roy's neck, he knew that his scent was raising again.

"You're too out of it right now," Ed offered, smiling a little against his skin. "Listen. I let you mark me, Roy. They'll see that, they'll see me around; they'll assume that _I_ am the omega. Do we need to correct them?"

Roy's brain went completely blank at that. _Let people believe Ed was the omega._ The sentence sat there alone in his mind for so long, it felt as if it were only words he knew.

He felt Ed wrap his arms around him and pull him closer. From the position, he could turn his face to Ed's to see the other man's expression.

He saw nothing but honest contemplation there. As always. Ed never hedged, never really prevaricated unless it was his safety or his brother's safety at risk.

Roy turned to stare at the wall, that one sentence thrumming through his mind. It joined slowly with other thoughts, word by word, sliding together like pieces of a puzzle. He struggled to keep his thoughts coherent and ordered, if only for the time it took him to understand Ed's line of reasoning. "Sometimes…" he started slowly. "Sometimes I forget you're a genius."

Ed laughed and buried his nose into the back of Roy's neck. "A fucking prodigy, Mustang. And don't forget it."

 **s/11286917/1/Ultraviolet**

 **/works/4057171/chapters/9649122**


	8. Chapter 8

] o [ ] o [ ] o [

 **Ultraviolet**

 **Chapter Eight**

 **Rating: M**

The last day of Roy's heat came and went quickly. After four days of nothing but brain melting, sweaty fucking, Roy could do little but lie on the bed and let Ed maneuver him into whatever position was most comfortable for the omega.

Ed marveled at the fact that he had never seen Roy so wrung out, almost like a broken doll. He wanted to stop hours before and give the poor guy a break, but he quickly learned that, during a heat, the omega actually was in charge. While his brain might have wanted the rest, Roy's body and instincts demanded mating after mating, and, unbelievably, Ed was able to oblige in more ways than he ever thought possible. All he could do for his new mate was keep him hydrated in between sessions, and comply with Roy's needs.

Then suddenly, like a candle extinguishing, late in the middle of the fourth night, Ed watched as Roy climaxed one final time, weakly groaning his release, pulling Ed through it one more time. After that, Roy collapsed, plain and simple.

Ed waited a few moments and then touched the older man's skin. He could feel it as he moved his hand over Roy's shoulder; felt the vibration of complete and utter exhaustion wrap itself around the other man, so much that Roy could barely speak anymore. He tried; mumbling something Ed couldn't translate if his life depended on it. As soon as his knot went down and he was able, Ed withdrew and brushed the sweat-drenched hair from his mate's eyes and fixed him so that he was laying as comfortably as possible in the cocoon of well-used sheets. Roy didn't even notice that the sheets had seen and smelled better days; he just pulled it up over his shoulder, closed his eyes as if even that was an exhausting task and fell into an unconsciousness. It was so deep that Ed was worried for a few minutes until he saw Roy's chest raise and lower as he took short, shallow breaths.

Ed lay on his back for a long moment, wrung out himself. Even during his best days with Mikhail, he hadn't fucked this much at once. He considered the swirling patterns of the ceiling and tried to sort out the clashing emotions battling it out inside of his chest. He felt good, that was certain, but he also felt a strange uncertainty. This whole thing hadn't gone down like the usual beginning of a relationship, with all of the prerequisite euphoria that came with it. There was no sweet afterglow, no soft exploration of each other. There was left just a leaden weariness that only rest and copious amounts of food and drink would cure. That precious honeymoon phase would come, Edward was sure, but not until they had sorted out the particulars.

Ed and Roy had gone through the entire gamut of relationship types in the past near decade. They'd traveled from wariness, through excitement and hatred, over annoyance, acceptance, and friendship and now… this. It wasn't quite _love_ in the way Ed thought love would be. What he sensed, under everything else, was a mutual possession unlike any other he felt before, and a deeply rooted craving to ensure that his omega ( _his_ omega) was satisfied in every single way possible. It was fierce, the desire and he wanted – no, needed – to ensure all of the shields Roy had constructed around himself stayed solid. It wasn't only about keeping his true dynamic secret. No it wasn't.

It was about everything within the walls of this house, and perhaps anywhere secure, where nature would assert itself. Behind the doors of this home, Ed was the alpha; his was the responsibility of sanctuary. However, how would that work when Roy was The General, the second in command of all of Amestris, to the world the second strongest of alphas that resided in the military?

Ed touched the mark on the back of his neck as he padded toward the bathroom. Allowing Roy to mark him was purely convenience, he thought at first. People would need to see a mark, they would need to believe that Roy had claimed him and claimed him well. But as he rubbed at the healing skin, he felt a deep warm feeling, as if the circuit that connected them was twice as strong as it would have been had he not been marked. It felt good. And good was a feeling he hadn't experience in a very long time.

Ed took in the spacious bathroom with a low whistle. Calls of nature aside, Ed didn't have time to examine the room during any of the previous days. It was a pristine paradise, a hedonist's dream. As he padded across the floor, he felt a gentle, even warmness beneath his feet – how had Roy managed to keep the floor heated? Probably a hypocaust in the basement alchemically rigged. Running steaming water in the combination bath and shower, he realized the thing was large enough to cook a party of five in decadent heat. Well, maybe not a party of five, but surely the two of them would fit without any impossible gymnastics. Beneath the window, he saw a shelf piled with soft, white towels and washcloths and a tray of various soaps and lotions ready for use. The washbasin was small, but it took care of the necessities. He considered the straight razor and cup of shaving soap and rubbed his hand over the light scruff that had grown over his face. Definitely would have to borrow that until he could go and get his things… and then he remembered.

Al.

He would have to call Al. Al would know what was going on, but if he knew his brother, knowing wouldn't stop him from being concerned. He gave a look toward the door, where he knew Roy was sleeping, and would probably be sleeping for the next day or so. After his bath, he would call his brother to bring some of his things. He actually didn't feel comfortable leaving the house, and leaving Roy so vulnerable. A horde of mannequin soldiers could crash through Roy wouldn't even change position. He would call. He scratched at the dried, crusted fluids on his stomach and grimaced. _After_ his bath.

He climbed into the tub and soaked until his muscles were boiled into relaxation. The urges that drove him through four day of shameless sex leaked out of him slowly into the steaming water, and he would have fallen asleep himself if he didn't have so much to do.

Once he felt satisfied that he had washed off days' worth of sweat, spit and semen and lubricant, he stood, drained the tub and ran the shower, rinsing himself one last time. Finally, after scrubbing until his wrists were tired, every inch of him was squeaky clean. He shook his right leg a bit to ensure that no water remained anywhere under the surface of the automail, then wrapped another towel securely around his waist.

Moving back into the bedroom, which was still heavy and rich with the scents of mating, he found the phone under a pile of clothes he didn't remember throwing off, and dialed the exchange to his brother's room.

Al was yawning when he answered the phone. Ed sighed with relief; just as he was connected, he remembered Al telling him that Tseng was close to his heat. "Hey, Al," he said, surprised that his voice was so hoarse. He didn't remember being that vocal. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hi, Al."

"Mm… Brother?" Al took his time moving into full wakefulness. Ed patiently waited while he pictured his brother yawning, scratching and shaking his head to clear it. "Ed?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Al's voice suddenly became serious. "Is everything okay? I haven't heard from you in…"

"Four days," Ed supplied. "And yeah, everything is okay. For the moment," he looked back at the bed again. "His heat is gone and Roy is out of it at the moment, and I don't think he'll be up until tomorrow."

"Or perhaps the next day," Al said. He cleared his throat and became all business. "What do you need?"

Ed thought about that for a moment. "My things. The necessities for now, until I can leave him here by himself." That sentence felt weird to say. _Leave him by himself._ He waited for that to sink in and when he heard no reaction other than a swift intake of breath, he continued, in concert with his grumbling stomach. "Food. Something we don't have to cook and lots of it."

"You know, Tseng and I can cook if you want," Al volunteered. "I know what it can be like, so we can come and help you two while you get situated."

"Didn't you say Tseng was close to his heat?" Ed wasn't sure he wanted another alpha – even his brother – in the same house.

Al snorted. "How long have you been gone?"

Ed thought about that, and then chuckled. "Really? He must be exhausted then. You don't have to come then."

"No, he's actually fine. Because Tseng and I have been together for some time, his heats don't last as long. It's something that comes from mating regularly. After the initial heat, if the omega has bonded, then their heats will only last two or three day's tops." Ed could hear rustling in the background and heard the light murmur of his brother's mate in the background. "Tseng just reminded me that you might not be comfortable with me around and says he's ready to come if you need him."

Ed shook his head perversely. Al was his _brother_ after all, and he was no threat to his territory. "No, both of you come. It'll be okay," he said.

The idea that Roy's heats would decrease in duration was a relief. Roy really couldn't afford to take more than a few days off from his work, not when he was so close to his goal.

 _Wow, that sounded marital,_ Ed thought. He shook his head then went back to Al. "Yeah, both of you come on over. I guess you two need to know all the details of how we're going to carry this… this mating—relationship—whatever."

"I have a feeling it's going to be more complicated than the usual, right?"

"Far more complicated than you can imagine."

"You two can never do anything easily, can you?" Al said with a chuckle. "So I suspect I'm to keep my mouth shut until we can talk."

"Definitely. In fact, if you run into anyone important and they ask, just tell them _I_ presented." Ed said. "Just that. But don't tell them what I am. Get me?"

"Oookay," Al said carefully. "I think I understand. We can be there in about another couple hours."

"You sure? It is late."

"We've been up already. Don't worry about it, Brother. We've got you covered."

"Thanks," Ed said sincerely. "Really, thank you."

"You know you don't have to thank me." His brother laughed. "Just make sure you name your firstborn after me."

"Fuck, I don't want to think about that now!" Ed shook his head to clear it of the vision of a very pregnant, very grouchy Roy. "Damn, now I have to go wash my brain out!"

Al gave a full-bodied laugh, probably picturing the same thing. "Now I do too," he chuckled. "I'll see you in a bit."

Ed hung up the phone. He looked over at Roy again. He was still lying in the same position Ed left him, his mouth open, a bit of drool coming from the corner of his mouth. _Beautiful._ He waited, to see if the man would start snoring, or something else annoying, but other than a light wheeze, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

He briefly thought about joining him back in the bed, and then remembered the condition of the sheets. Nope. There was no way he was going to put his shiny clean body back there. He felt a bit of pity for Roy, stuck sleeping the mess of it all, but then shrugged. Roy probably wasn't aware of anything now, let alone scratchy cum patches.

The time passed quickly in Ed's estimation, he was soon wearing a borrowed shirt as he opened the door to his brother and his brother's mate, who were both weighed down with groceries and two suitcases.

"I'll have to bring your spare leg next time," Al said by way of greeting. He and Tseng stopped in the doorway and marveled at the amount of space hiding behind the innocuous door of the townhouse. "Wow."

"Yeah, I know," Ed answered. He took one of the suitcases from Al and led them down the front hallway. "The kitchen is down that way I think." Tseng followed his gesture and headed in that direction with the groceries. Ed gestured for Al to follow him as he walked down the hallway toward the double staircase. "Can you believe he hid all this behind that door? Actually, the more I think about it, he must have all connected both of those townhouses."

Al spun in the entrance hall. "Yeah, I think so too. Clever."

"As usual for Mustang," Ed threw over his shoulder, heading straight up the stairs. "But, damn! There is too much fucking room in this place!" he muttered. He was slow in navigating his way down the hallway before realizing that the staircase led up one more flight. He hadn't even noticed that. "I think I was up here."

Al was laughing softly as he watched his brother stumble around in the unfamiliar surroundings. "You're gonna have to get used to this place pretty quick, Brother."

"Yeah, I know," Ed found what he was looking for. "Uh," he said, standing in the middle of the short hallway. "Roy's room is over there," he pointed, "but I don't think we wanna go in there right now."

"No thank you," Al said, wrinkling his nose. "I can smell it from out here."

"Oh, shut up," his brother muttered, grinning to take the sting out of his words. "I bet you didn't smell like roses and lilacs a few days ago."

Al grinned. "Definitely not," he offered, "but a gentleman never kisses and tells."

"Bullshit." Ed took a couple of short turns before he ended up in another bedchamber, about as large as Roy's. He gave it a quick once over before nodding. "I think we can set you two up in here for a couple of days."

Al nodded, not even questioning for a minute that Ed was in charge with Roy out of commission. Ed was glad because he certainly was questioning the ease with which he made himself at home.

Al must have noticed his trouble look, because after he put down one of the suitcases, he put his hands on his brother's shoulders. "Overwhelmed yet?" he asked.

Ed blinked at his brother. The guy never changed. He always, always knew when Ed was out of sorts. "Kind of," he said. Now that Al mentioned it, all kinds of things started filling his brain. "I mean, look at me. I'm here, taking over like I own the place, and I've only been here four days! What is that about?"

"It's about you being an alpha, Brother." Al sat on the edge of the bed, waving at his brother to join him. "You've just finished presenting, rutting, and mating, all in a short period of time." He leaned in and touched the back of his brother's neck. "And from what I'm seeing, bonding?"

Ed flushed. He raised a hand to the mark and rubbed his fingers across it. "Yeah," he grumbled. "C'mon, do you think there was any other choice?"

Al shook his head. "Not really. He's your suitable mate, and it's just natural for you to bond. It's just that everything happened so quickly, I'm sure that your brain is overloaded right now."

"Was it like this for you?"

"No, not really. I presented soon after I got to Xing, then it was about a month or so before I found Tseng creeping around the palace. I was attracted to his scent, but he hadn't gone into heat yet."

"You were lucky."

"Yes, I was, because it gave me time to get to know Tseng before we were thrown into his mating heat." He looked around the room. "However, Brother, look at it this way. You've known the General for a long time, right? You already know what he's like. You've seen him at his ultimate worst."

Ed grimaced, thinking of that awful time in the underground, when Roy became a lunatic, and then later when the man was broken almost beyond repair, blind and helpless. Just then, Ed had a sudden flash memory of how much that pissed him off. It was much more than being angry for a friend.

"And, you've seen him at his best," Al was continuing. "So this is just another step down that road."

"Yeah, but it's more permanent now," Ed said uncertainly.

"And it wasn't before?" Al retorted. "I mean, considering how deeply Mustang was involved in our lives, I didn't foresee him disappearing on us any time soon. I mean, really, we were on our way here first, to see him and Colonel Hawkeye, before we did anything else." He touched Ed's shoulder again. "He was already family, Ed. You just made it formal."

Ed thought about that. Now that the fog of mating frenzy was gone from his mind, he could move things around in there to figure out how he felt about all of this.

"You're probably going to bump into each other a few times on the way to the bathroom," Al was saying. "And you'll probably lock horns more than once. If you can believe it, there was a month or two when Tseng and I weren't speaking. If you really think about it, it's actually a good thing that you two already know so much about the other. Imagine you trying to get used to a perfect stranger." His brother shivered at the very idea.

"Yeah, well I hope you're ready for about a million questions about this shit, because I'm saving them up."

"Of course, brother. But I bet Roy has plenty of books on the subject here, considering his predicament."

That cheered Ed up a bit, the idea that he had a library like Roy's at his disposal. "I think we should wait until he wakes up before we go over the situation, though," he said, knowing that was going to be Al's next question.

"Fair enough." Al slapped his palms against his thighs and stood. "Let's go find Tseng. If I know him, he's already figured out the entire kitchen and is on his way to fixing dinner."

"Man, you're lucky to have found someone who knows how to cook," Ed said. "I have no idea how we're going to survive over here. I burn water, and who knows what Mustang knows how to cook."

"Edward, Roy is an omega," Al threw over his shoulder. "Whether he likes it or not, to nurture is in his blood. I wouldn't be surprised if he was an excellent cook and caretaker."

He pictured watching Roy run around the house like Mrs. Hughes used to, humming around the kitchen, cooking, sewing and doing laundry like a good housewife.

The laughter almost made him fall completely down all flights of stairs. He definitely would share that idea with Roy, and see how fast the older man would hit the roof. Just because they were bonded didn't mean he couldn't pluck the man's nerves anymore.

Especially now that the General couldn't call him _short._


	9. Chapter 9

] o [ ] o [ ] o [

 **Ultraviolet**

 **Chapter Nine**

 **Rating T**

 _Alpha!_

The word jolted Roy out of his deep sleep like the crack of a gunshot. His eyes popped open and he lay there a moment, disoriented, his heart fluttering like mad. He considered the ceiling for enough time for the cobwebs to desert his brain and for him to remember.

 _Alpha._

He closed his eyes briefly against the inevitability of remembering what had happened over the past few days. He expected to feel angry, pissed off at the fact that he was unable to escape the storm of an omegan heat despite his best efforts. In reality, however, all he felt was an interesting sense of calm. The last time he'd felt so calm was after he'd regained his sight after the Promised Day.

 _Alpha._

His alpha was close; he knew that, even though the other man was nowhere to be seen.

 _His alpha. Edward Elric._

Of all the people in the entire world, his particular alpha turned out to be Edward Elric. One day—in a more convenient future, he hoped—his last name would become Elric. His children would be Elrics. His children would be part Xerxian. Interesting. Alchemists? Most certainly. Powerful? Undoubtedly.

Even that knowledge didn't shake him the way he thought it should. All these years, he battled against his instincts with as much determination as he'd battled his way up the ranks of the Amestrian War Machine. Now, all he wanted to do right then was to discover exactly where in his house his alpha was and why the man wasn't there beside him the way he wanted. The way he _needed._

That sweet smell of port wine still lingered around him, layered over two other scents that he was too exhausted to pick out. Muted were all of his senses; his whole body throbbed inside and out. He actually had to tell his brain to send the signals to make him move out of bed and when his body obeyed, he felt his every joint creak like rusty hinges in an old house full of doors and windows. He legs shook while he moved across the room to find his robe and wrap it around his nakedness.

Unsuccessful, he plucked a sheet up and wrapped it around his body and over one shoulder. He snorted to himself; four days of a long suppressed heat was making him feel about as old as Grumman. He looked down at himself as he closed the room. _Yep. He felt—and smelled-about as old as Grumman after an orgy with ten different women._ He would definitely need to spend about an eternity in the shower scraping sweat and other body fluids off before venturing back into the outside world. But first…

 _He needed to see his alpha._

The urgency slapped him in the face, disorienting him for a moment and making him dizzy. The driving hunger didn't help matters much. He felt the drive to race pell-mell through his own house, calling Edward's name. Anxiety skipped down his spine like an electrical current as he made his way down hallways and steps, following the distinct scent of Edward in the air.

Halfway down the hall he stopped, hearing lowered voices talking, sensing the other scents that wove their way into and around Edward. One was the warm smell of baking bread, a rich and alluring smell, and the other was the delicate scent of roses, light and dark and soothing as well. There were others in the house, he realized. His nerves jangled uncomfortably until he figured out the first scent. It had been Alphonse's scent when the Elric brothers had visited him in his office. He'd been just as drawn to it as to the unbelievable fragrance of the older Elric. The other? It was a mystery, but it wasn't unwelcome. In fact, the rose scent seemed to calm the tiny undercurrent of unease he realized he was feeling at the absence of his alpha.

He followed the three scents as they accurately drew him toward the kitchen area of his house.

]o[

Roy watched Ed look up from his book when he heard the shuffle of cloth in the entrance of the kitchen. Actually, both he and Al both stopped their studying all things dynamic when Roy shuffled in, trying not to scratch and a dried patch on his shoulder.

The person possessing the stranger scent looked up, smiled serenely, and went back to scrubbing the pan he'd been washing. Roy got the vague impression on Xingese, then Ed was in his field of vision and every bit of negative emotion left him like an exhaled breath.

Roy could see the intense concern sweep through Edward's eyes, darkening them slightly. He could also see the surprise and sense the heaviness in his mate's scent draping over him protectively.

"Roy, are you alright?" Ed murmured, putting a hand to the older man's face, trying to sweep away the confusion he could feel pouring from his own eyes.

"Hungry," Roy managed to say and startled at his scratchy voice. That sound gave him a vivid memory, and his mind cleared as he began to recall what was afoot. He looked down at himself again, realizing what he looked like to the others. Embarrassment hit him like a ton of bricks and he felt the heat of it flush his face.

Al chuckled. "Don't worry," he said, "everyone in this room knows exactly how you feel."

"Yeah, come and sit down," Ed practically ordered, reaching out to take the plate Tseng was handing him and pulling him toward the table.

Roy did so, quite reluctantly, wondering if there was any way to recover his dignity with them after this. Especially since there was a strange person standing at his sink, scrubbing away at his frying pan. He turned his head gently in the man's direction and realized that he was the source of the soothing, flower scent.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Al said, realizing what Roy was about. "That dynamo of domesticity over there is Tseng, my mate."

The Xingese man snorted in response to the description and raised a hand to give Roy a casual wave. "You think I'm going to leave a mess for these two to clean up?" Tseng said to Al, pitching his voice just as casually. Roy half smiled, understanding the technique and inwardly thanking him for it.

"It would never get done," Ed complained. His eyes were still focused on his new mate (and Roy blushed a bit at the idea), and he took a finger and pushed the plate closer. "Eat, Mustang." There was just enough rough tenderness in the order that Roy couldn't possibly take offense to the command underlying it. It was an odd feeling indeed, being cossetted by this particular man.

He pulled the plate closer and picked up his fork, mouth practically salivating at the pile of food in front of him. It was mostly protein and carbohydrates; exactly what his body needed to revive itself. He'd never seen so many eggs on one plate before, and beside them was tucked a nice, healthy, juicy piece of steak, and a stack of warm bread, slathered with enough butter to dry up an entire cow. He thought about the idea of some jam, then shoved it away. No, sugar wouldn't help him here. His body needed the energy more than his hedonistic mind needed the sweets. Beside, as if he'd been mind read, Ed was pushing a cup of coffee mixed just the way he liked it.

"If I remember, you take a bit of coffee with your sugar and cream?" Ed was saying with a quirky, almost bashful smile. All Roy could do with his full mouth was grunt an affirmative. He only half noticed, as he inhaled the plate in front of him, that Edward was pulling his own chair close to his, and was watching him carefully while pretending not to watch him. Normally, this would have made Roy very uneasy, but right then it was a soothing experience. He even had the oddest urge to bury his face into the side of Ed's neck and nuzzle. He cleared his throat and took a quick sip of coffee; that could be done later, without so much of an audience.

There was a simple, companionable silence for a while, while everyone did their thing, until suddenly, Roy heard a hiss and turned his head to see Tseng standing behind him, and felt the Xingese man's fingers on the back of his neck, brushing against the still sensitive bites. "Alphonse," the man said in a voice that reminded Roy of Ling but did not. "Look at these."

Al leaned over then gave his brother a scandalized look. "Brother! Did you have to eat him alive?"

Ed leaned and took a good look at the back of Roy's neck, just below the collar line, right where he'd savaged the scent glands. Roy could just imagine what they looked like, if Ed's bites were anything to go by. "Damn!" he exclaimed. "I'm sorry, Roy!"

"Could you find my kit, Alphonse?" Tseng asked again, rolling back up the sleeves he'd just rolled down.

"What are you going to do? You don't want to heal those!" Ed said. He was standing as if to move between Tseng and Roy, protectiveness in every bone of his body.

"Tch," Al said even as he moved toward the guest bedroom. "Nobody is going to heal your precious marks, Brother! He just needs to clean them so they won't get infected." Al continued to mutter as he moved out of hearing range, something about ' _barbarian_ ' and ' _needing some serious home training_ '.

"Hey, Al!" Ed called after him. "Not everyone is as dainty as you are!"

Tseng snorted. "There is very little that is dainty about Alphonse," he murmured, a light flush crawling from his neckline up into his cheeks. It darkened his own mark, Roy noticed, also noticing it was in a prominent place and was much smaller than he knew his own to be.

Ed waved his hands as he sat. "Blech! Too much information!"

Roy laughed. He was feeling more relaxed, now that he had a belly full of good food… and his mate by his side (though he kept that last bit in the back of his mind).

"No, I'm just civilized!" Al reposted, returning with a small black lacquer box. Tseng took it, laid it on the table, and opened it up, exposing a neatly organized first aid kit complete with tiny bottles of antiseptic, elegantly rolled bandages, exotic packages of poultices and, lastly, precious metal alkehestry blades. "Although…" Al was just now looking at his brother's neck, similarly marked up. "It appears you are perfectly matched for subtlety." He looked over at Tseng. " _These_ will need some healing."

"NO!"

That came from both Roy and Ed. The other two men froze and gave them a long look until they subsided with a quick gaze at one another.

"Can't heal my neck," Ed muttered, flopping back into his chair and burying his nose in his own coffee cup.

"Why on earth not?" Al asked. "You don't need to be marked so obviously!"

" _Yes_ , I do." Ed gave Roy a look. "Explain it to them. I'll probably mess it all up."

Roy sat back, his neck still bent while Tseng worked, and explained the dilemma. After he finished, Al looked thoughtful for a while, then nodded.

"That does make sense," he said. "If they find out you've hidden this all this time, you'll ruin all of your chances, on top of whatever regulation you're in violation of for lying to your commanding officers."

"I never outright lied," Roy argued lamely. "They never asked me, so I never told them."

"Not his fault they made assumptions, right?" Ed added.

"Omitted crucial facts, then," Al answered. Roy watched the magnificent mind of this young alchemist working behind his burnished gold eyes. Given all that time between ages nine and fifteen to do nothing but reason and contemplate, the consensus was that Alphonse was in possession of one of the most formidable minds in Amestris. Roy knew that it would take very few steps for Alphonse to draw the correct conclusions given the information he had. His guess was confirmed when the young man nodded decisively and looked at the two of them.

"So, Brother, you are going to let people think you are the omega," Al said. It was not a question. "Which will allow Roy to escape during heats without question." He looked around. "It will be hard for anyone to guess what goes on within these walls." He narrowed his gaze upon Roy. "A ceremony?"

Roy looked at Ed. Ed looked at him. They hadn't discussed it, hadn't even thought about that; not like they'd had the time. "I suppose?" Roy said.

"Of course," Ed finished. "It would be stupid if we didn't make it formal. Cause too many questions." He shrugged. "We could always hyphenate our surnames for now." He smiled when Roy nodded.

"What about children? Surely, there will be a family."

Roy shook his head, feeling slightly uncomfortable brining this up. The option of bringing children into a family, though on the surface a joint decision, was ultimately the choice of the omega. "Not now. It's impossible, considering. I've been on a strong contraceptive for a while." Even saying it felt strange, now that he was mated.

It was part of Roy's instinctual drive to want to give his mate children. Right after a heat, that drive was at its strongest. Roy half expected the hand of some supreme being to come down and smack him silly for even thinking of putting off what was only natural for him. He shook his head and threw that thought into the back of his mind with everything else that screamed _omega!_ at him. They would have time for that later. He found his gaze pulled toward his mate again, like the golden regard was a lodestone. He saw an oddly formed understanding there, as if Edward didn't even realize that he _did_ understand.

The younger man placed a strong hand over his, the first real contact, since his heat ended. As expected, he felt it like lightning through his whole body and was certain that the spark shot out of his eyes for everyone to see. He definitely felt his body listing toward Ed's strong form. "We're not even going to discuss children until Roy reaches his goal," Ed finished softly. "That would obviously ruin everything he's been striving for since the beginning."

Al looked at the two of them quietly, calculating the values he saw between them. His piercing gaze had struck them both, seeing the drive to do the exact opposite under the surface of both determined gazes. "Also makes sense. If you are sure…"

"That's not negotiable," Roy spoke up, taking the chance of reply from his alpha. It was time for him to put on his veneer, and take the reins of command again. He would have to return to work within the next two days, and it was imperative for him to walk into that office essentially the same man that left it. And the time to start acting like the General he was had arrived.

"Of course."

"This _will_ be interesting to see," Tseng was suddenly commenting. "Most people will see the trappings of an omega and alpha mating and will probably not question who is who. Scent notwithstanding."

"That's it," Al snapped his fingers. "What I was missing. How will you explain the scent?" He pointed at Edward. "You smell so obviously like an alpha I want to fight you just because. And you…" Al actually cleared his throat and twitched in his chair slightly. "Even I want to lock you up in your room and protect you." He looked at his own mate. "No offense."

Tseng laughed outright. "None taken. I want to do the same."

Roy didn't recognize the sound until it dawned on him; Edward was… _growling._ He stared.

"Oh, hush, Brother," Alphonse said. "I said I wanted to; of course I never would. But, your scents are something that needs to be addressed."

Roy had already walked that path, while the brothers were half-hissing at one another, and knew exactly what they would need for that. He even remembered then that was probably a logical reason.

Did he have to bring that up now? Or could it wait?

"Suppressants?" Ed offered. "They worked for you for a while. Think they'll work for me?"

"They'll work for anyone," Roy answered. "We can always say that we're too engrossed in our work and need them for a short time."

" _That_ will cause gossip," Al said.

"What else is new?" Ed returned. "Haven't we all been the subject of gossip since we met?"

Al stopped to deliberate all of the options again. Everyone waited, each man holding his breath when blinked and pinned Roy with a suddenly precise look. "Tell me," he simply said, and then looked at all of the blinking eyes. "Oh, sorry!" He apologized, knowing he was a few steps in front of them. "I have a guess that Roy, you know how to make this work, right?"

Roy sighed. The buried thought surfaced again, and he knew that at the very least Ed would see the truth on his face. There was a way to make this work. It was something that was tentatively discussed in the back room of the Fuhrer's offices. It would be the perfect excuse for the pair of them to be on suppressants.

"It would have to do with… travel, wouldn't it?" the younger Elric was continuing. "It would make sense to give Edward something to do that causes him to travel, separating the two of you and making suppressants necessary." Roy watched, almost painfully, while Alphonse visually and verbally skipped on down a road that Roy didn't believe he was ready to have to cover. "And… Since he did such a good job in Drachma, it would make sense to let him continue working toward establishing good relations with the other countries around us."

Ed was blinking and looking poleaxed. Roy didn't rightly blame him. Roy took that thread wove a few words together in his head, a quick and clear-cut group of sentences that he could put out before his mate blew one of those infamous gaskets in his mind.

He started with one—and only one—word. "Xerxes." He said quietly.

The two last descendants of that country stared at him, the air around them suddenly still and thick. The Xingian in the room sensed the change and promptly put himself at his own mate's side, a calming hand on a shoulder.

He cleared his throat and waved a hand, hitching his sheet up over his shoulder again. His fingers brushed over a sensitive spot on his shoulder; a fresh blooming bruise, probably the same size as a finger. "There has been talk in Ishbal of rebuilding Xerxes as a center of learning."

Edward gave his new mate a narrowed, suspicious look. "Who has been talking, Mustang?"

 _Mustang._ That was his warning; probably his only one. Edward was going to blow a gasket soon. Roy cleared his throat. "It's something that has only been discussed on an _extremely_ preliminary level," he volunteered. "Only a close few know of the idea. The usual suspects."

He watched Edward and Alphonse look at one another and could almost see the words sizzling the air between them.

While knowledge of Xerxes was still an ephemeral thing through Amestris, and something that the government was still learning, it ran thick in the blood of these two young men. Their father had been the last true Xerxian, pureblood and ancient all in one. Their father, along with the hundreds of thousands of souls that took up residence inside of Van Hohenheim, were all that was left of that illustrious civilization.

Hohenheim released those bound souls during the Promised Day to avenge their own genocide. Many deep thinkers in the Amestrian government were still wondering exactly _where_ all of those souls actually went. Had they gone to eternal rest? Did they replace souls that had been irrevocably taken by Father during his mad grasp for the power of God? Even now, were there "new" Xerxians populating Amestris and the surrounding countries?

As he continued to watch the Elric brothers silently debate, and while the young Xingian prince tended to Edward's matemarks, Roy wondered if they realized that those in power were preparing to find answers to that pressing question, and that those in power were preparing to find a way to use the two men before him to do just that.

Dead set against the idea to just use them, Roy almost managed to convince old Grumman to allow them to become part of the plan from the beginning. Nevertheless, even after the years between the Promised Day and this day, some soldiers—including the ever-cautious Fuhrer—were not ready to deal with the mercurial Elric brothers yet. Now that he and Ed were mates, Roy wondered how that would factor into the decision, and what role he himself would actually play.

Other than the role of the person who arranged for them to be at loose ends and able to come visit Central in the first place.

He sighed to himself and played with a crust of bread in the remnants of egg yolk left on his plate. He had a feeling if he told them everything today, this would be close to his final meal. Ed _hated_ to be the victim of manipulation. It was something the man had dealt with from the beginning, when he was only ten. Alphonse as well, hated being played for a pawn, though the younger brother's temper was more manageable. When Roy first experienced the younger Elric in full anger, the frost-fire fierceness shook him enough to remember it well. Edward, however, would be a flash point, _all_ of the heat and force, as usual, pointed directly at Roy, and rightfully so.

After all was said and done, and now that his heat had calmed and rational thought had returned, he was almost morose in thinking that this was _not_ the way he'd planned on starting a mated relationship with anyone, let alone the former Fullmetal Alchemist.

Hardheaded and combustible—that was Edward Elric in full temper. Now, through a trick of nature, the younger man was, in everything but name, his husband. Now he would have the power of being the dominant mate behind his anger, forceful, heavy-handed and _subjugating._ If he so chose, he could have Roy curled up begging forgiveness for a fucking long time.

Roy had a feeling the first few months of this relationship would be a hellish ride, especially now that he'd introduced politics on top of an already outlandish situation. He was actually thinking about asking Sheska to go in search of some fireproof drawers to protect his ass once the two of them reached the correct conclusion.

Which, given Alphonse Elric's coldly arched eyebrow, and the storm brewing in Edward Elric's eyes, they were well on their way toward.

"General," it was Al that spoke first. Roy winced at the honorific. "I believe that it would be a good idea for you to give us a full explanation before your new mate decides to take more than just a bite out of your ass."

"And it better be satisfactory, Colonel Bastard," came the rumble from Fullmetal. "Or I might just rip that sorry mustache off your face myself."


End file.
